Coerced
by Freedom909
Summary: A small spin-off to Of Hockey, Harmonies, and Husbands. Takes place far down the line of this story in which Éponine is hiding a secret from Enjolras. A secret that will test not only themselves but the limits of their relationship, taking them both to new extremes. [Modern AU MiniStory]
1. Part 1

**A/N: This is a little two-shot (tentatively) that came to me somehow. I'm actually not even sure. I think it was because I found a mysterious bruise on my knee. Well, I transformed this into a spin off of _Of Hockey, Harmonies, and Husbands_. This would take place far, FAR down the line of this story. There aren't ****spoilers for the story except for one main big one. But you will probably overlook that anyway. **

**I hope that's everything I wanted to say, because I can't remember anything else actually. Well. Please enjoy and let me know was you think!**

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Coerced  
Part 1

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She hated herself. No, she loathed herself - detested, abhorred, despised herself. She was repelled by her own actions so much she vexed everything she even was. She was nothing more than a despicable human, staining the ground she even walked on. She was so disgusted with herself, she felt like she could vomit.

But how can a wonderful life turn sour so fast? How can it be possible to loathe yourself so much over something small? For in actuality, it wasn't like she killed anyone, it wasn't like she stole something, but maybe what she did was even worse than both of those? For yes, she betrayed her fiancé - her best friend, her meant-to-be.

With a shaky step, Éponine stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby of her office building. The place was dead except for a security guard parked in the far off corner - looking more engrossed in his phone than his job. She headed for the main doors, seeing through the glass how the night had dimmed to darkness.

Enjolras would be waiting for her just as he always did come the end of the work day. He would pick her up and drive her home. Oh, her step faltered just thinking about the happy smile that would be waiting to greet her. The guilt pooled in her stomach more and more…

His words echoed clearly through her mind, as if he were right there saying them to her again. She felt her face flat against the hard wooden floor, her labored breathing, her pounding heart as he spoke in a most familiar grueling and commanding tone.

"_We will do this every week - twice a week - unless you would rather look for a new job." _

The closer Éponine walked to the door, the more she couldn't help but despise herself. This was all far from over - in fact, it had only just begun.

She just couldn't understand how everything had just managed to change in the blink of an eye. Her life had been splendid. Everything was going to plan just nicely. Enjolras had proposed to her just short of two months ago. They had both begun to plan their wedding which was supposed to take place a few months from now. Éponine had even moved in with her fiancé, hoping to cut the cost of living - and it had worked out just as planned.

But aside from her home life improving, even Azelma had started getting really serious with Courfeyrac. The two were even discussing marriage. But that wasn't it, Azelma had also landed a job in Combeferre's pediatric office, and here, she was making more money than she ever had before. Even Gavroche was doing well. He was finishing up his freshman year in college now and even managed to land on the Dean's List this year. Éponine hadn't heard from Montparnasse in a while, the only bruises left on her were memories, and it seemed that even her father had given up trying to contact her. Added to all of this, Éponine had the wonderful support of her and Enjolras' friends. Yes, for the first time in her life, everything was perfect.

She should've known it would never last.

To help with their draining financial situation, Éponine had finally landed a job. After months and months of searching, disappointing interviews, unanswered emails and phone calls, after all of that, Éponine had finally gotten a job at the top rated newspaper in Boston. Somehow, exactly a month ago, she had managed to become a first assistant to the Editor-in-Chief of the Boston Herald. It was a dream job...well, at least it had felt like it was until today.

Her boss was so nice and so caring, always making sure she was taken care of when actually she was the one supposed to be taking care of the Mr. Jay Pierson. But whenever she made a mistake and typed up the wrong assignment for him, or gotten him light roast coffee instead of dark roast, he would smile politely and warmly correct her. Éponine just felt at ease around him. They made innocent conversation, he was always interested in what she had to say and was always looking to make her feel welcome. He just made her feel good about herself in everything, even to the point of complimenting her outfits and appearance daily.

Éponine scoffed. She should've saw this coming.

"_And good luck trying to find a new job. You leave here and I'll slander your name so bad, you won't even be able to find work in a donut shop."_

The words hit her again making her heart stop beating for a moment. Cautiously, she approached the front glass door and opened it, immediately to see Enjolras' smiling face just as she expected, staring right at her from the driver's seat of his car. That was when she knew, she couldn't do this. Éponine couldn't bring herself to smile back at him. Instead, it was like a bomb just exploded her entire world. She shut her eyes to hold back the tears and sunk to the ground, resting her eyes in her knees and wrapping her arms around herself.

She didn't care that people stared at her as they walked by, or made rude comments at her balled form. But she wanted to close everything out, she wanted to become nothing.

It was that instant, she heard his voice. "Éponine! Éponine!" Gradually it was getting closer to her until she felt two arms rest on her shoulders and she felt a warm breath right by her forehead. "Éponine, God...what happened? Are you okay? What happened?"

She didn't cry - she refused to cry. But she just stayed still, caught in her own trance, letting the world fall away and doing nothing to stop it.

His words seemed so far away, as if she were locked in a glass case. But too soon, the gentle hands were coaxing her up, bringing her to her feet and pulling her body into his chest. "Please, Éponine? Tell me what happened? Are you okay?" He didn't wait for an answer he knew he wouldn't get. "You're okay, you're okay. I've got you." His words enveloped her just as his arms did. But she did not hug him back. She couldn't find it within her heart to hug him back. Knowing the wrong she committed, knowing the betrayal, the hurt - she couldn't do it. And she couldn't take his kindness. He was going to hate her.

But how was she going to tell him? How could she? Did she love him enough to hurt him with this information? Was that even possible?

"C'mon," his voice beckoned, "let's get you home." He guided her across the side walk and in between two parked cars to his car, doubled parked on the busy side street.

She barely registered the flashing yellow of his hazard lights as she dazedly was sat down in the passenger seat.

"Éponine," he whispered, cupping the side of her face, trying to make her dead eyes look at him. But she wouldn't move. Enjolras reached over and attached her seat belt before planting a small kiss on her temple.

He jogged around to the driver's seat, ignoring the honking from a passing car. He shuffled into the car, glancing over at Éponine.

"Éponine?" he tried again. "Are you okay? Please tell me what happened. Did something happen at work? Was work okay? What happened?"

"Yes, it was work. It was stressful," she stated and suddenly, Enjolras let a small smile find his lips.

Quickly, he dropped his smile, not looking to upset her further. He just couldn't help it. He wasn't happy that her job was stressful, but he was happy she was talking. He was happy that she wasn't shutting him out. He was happy that the stress was the worst of her problems. In an instant, he took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as he pulled out into traffic. "It's just stress?" he clarified.

"Yes, just stress."

He let out a sigh of relief. "We knew this job was going to be stressful when you took it, we knew that. But remember, we said you could handle it? We knew you could do it." He glanced over to see Éponine nod her head.

She was intent on listening to his words. If he believed this, then she was doing an okay job at hiding the truth. That meant she wouldn't have to tell him. He wouldn't have to know.

"But we can handle it," he continued. "We will handle it. Together. I'm gonna be here for you, Éponine. I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to do this alone. We'll get through it together."

Then a sob found its way out of her lips. She was trying to hold it back. She was fighting. But his words just opened the floodgates. She didn't mean to. But with everything he was saying, she knew he would take it back in a second when or if he found out.

"Hey, hey, hey..." his velvet voice whispered. He interlocked his fingers with hers, rubbing his thumb soothingly over the back of her hand. "Shh, don't cry. Éponine, come on..."

The car came to a stop at a red light, and immediately Enjolras turned his whole body to face her. He rubbed her hand more fervently.

"C'mon, love. You don't need to cry. I mean every word I say. You won't do this alone. Just, c'mon...listen, a week from now, you'll be laughing about how silly this all is."

_Silly? _she couldn't help but think. _Oh sure, he won't think it's silly when he knows._

"Really?" she choked out, feeling her sobs die down.

"I promise." The way he said it almost had her believing him.

The light turned green and Enjolras glanced back at the road. He stepped on the gas lightly, letting the car roll forward. "Hey," he started, "want to grab something for dinner? You don't really want to cook tonight, do you? And I don't really want to either," he muttered, trying to lighten the mood. "We can stop for something - anything you want. And we'll grab a bottle of wine? Huh, what do you say? We'll make it a good night, something to take your mind off work for a bit."

Éponine didn't know if she could find the words to answer him. She felt a lump forming at the back of her throat. But she nodded and finally hiccuped out, "Yes."

He glanced over to her, a smile reaching up to his eyes. "Great."

…

They made their way back to the apartment, carrying a bag of Greek take-out and a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. Éponine placed the food on the counter, beginning to separate it and put it on plates while Enjolras took out two glasses. There wasn't much room for exchange and Éponine, for one, wasn't too sad about that. She was worried that the more she talked, the more the guilt would eat her alive. But as Enjolras poured the wine and set the glasses at the table, he hummed to himself, smiling all the while.

She felt herself ease a bit, just listening to him. He always had this way about him, he always knew just how to make her feel better. Oh, she was going to miss this when he found out. Her eyes dropped to her trembling hands as she opened up one styrofoam container of food. The light in the diamond caught her eye, and instinctively, she touched it, running her index finger over the stone and petting it minutely. Her heart sank further the more she stared at it, remembering how not too long ago, that same finger held a gold band, signifying everything her life was. But now, this new ring held a new promise.

_How quickly this promise will break_, she reminded herself. _I can't hide this forever._

It was as if he sensed the discomfort in the air and his arms wrapped around her from behind. He nuzzled his nose into her neck, kissing her tenderly. "Eight more months," he whispered with a light kiss on her cheek. He felt her body tense and her fingers let go of the ring. "What?" he questioned. When she didn't answer, but simply looked down at the counter, Enjolras sighed. "Don't think about it, Éponine. You're home now, work can't bother you at home. Just forget about them all, forget about the work, forget about your boss - " Her body went rigid. He quirked an eyebrow and stared down at her suspiciously. "What?" he asked again, a hint of terseness in his voice.

She shook her head immediately and moved out of his grasp, focusing on setting out the food. "You're right," she started. "I should just forget about it for tonight. I'll…I'll try to forget. I can do that." She waited to see if he was going to pry her for more information. She was preparing exactly what to say next, a good lie, just to cover herself.

"Good," was all he said and he set about helping her put food on the plates.

She caught his warm smile, shocked he didn't press the matter further. Wasn't the curiosity bugging him? Wasn't he dying to know what was really bothering her?

_What a strange man_, she realized. But no, it wasn't strange. Enjolras had called this something before, he explained it to her once. Oh, what was the word he used? Yes, that was it.

Respect.

…

She awoke with her legs tucked into her chest, hands gripping the corner of the bed that she was precariously balanced on. Every muscle in her body ached - mostly from the stress, she was sure.

"Éponine?" she heard from behind her.

She didn't move and didn't answer, thinking that he may think she was still sleeping or something. She didn't even know what time it was and figuring it was early morning by the light flooding the room, she didn't want to disturb him. Somehow, she guessed she already did. But just like his phantom movements from yesterday, she felt his soft hand on her shoulder, gently tugging her closer to him.

"What are you doing over there?" he whispered. "You're gonna fall off the bed." His gentle movements soon turned stern as he pried her hands from the sheets and tugged her entire body closer to the middle of the bed.

She didn't know if she should protest or not, wondering if she should continue pretending to be asleep. Part of her wanted to wrap herself in Enjolras' loving arms and part of her wanted to stay far, far away from him. "Sorry," she mumbled, giving herself up.

"It's okay," he murmured, wrapping his arms securely around her body and pressing her back to his chest. "I just didn't want you falling off the bed and getting hurt." He breathed out a long breath into her hair. "The alarm is going to ring in a minute." He sighed again, nuzzling in her neck. "I don't want to go to work. Can't we just stay in bed all day?" he teased.

She felt a smile grace her lips, but quickly dropped it. "Oh right…work."

Enjolras held her shoulders and calmly turned her body around to face him. He lifted a finger under her chin to make her look up at him. "You're going to be fine. Remember, I'm only a phone call away if you need anything." He attached his lips to her chastely.

Éponine closed her eyes, feeling the tears start to well again. She hated how kind he was being to her. It was making this more difficult than it had to be. But suddenly, she pressed her lips to his roughly as he began to pull away from her. She didn't want to lose him. She didn't want this to end. She loved him. She wanted to be with him forever.

He sensed this new-found change in her and didn't question it. Enjolras tangled his fingers in her hair while the other hand travelled down the curves of her waist. He pushed her down, not detaching his lips from hers, and climbed above her.

She could almost cry, knowing what was happening. The guilt didn't stop gnawing at her heart. This was betrayal. She couldn't let this continue. She couldn't. She couldn't…

But oh, she could. His weight pressed against her, his hands teasing the skin under her shirt. This felt like heaven.

The alarm clock began to beep and was immediately silenced by Enjolras reaching over to snooze it. To him, it was a disruption that warranted no anger, but simply an event that could be taken care of. Yes, that was what she loved about Enjolras. He never got upset by anything, for if he did, he never let her see. She felt his body growing fervent, aching with desire as his hands caressed all along her at once.

_I need to stop this, I need to stop this,_ she told herself over and over, but yet, she never brought herself to.

In an instant, Enjolras was straddling her, sitting up and throwing the comforter to the end of the bed. He scooted himself down her body, trailing his hands along. They caught in the waist of her pajama pants and his hands continued their journey down the length of her legs. As he sat by her feet, admiring everywhere where his hands had just been, he saw a few dark shadows pooled on her knee caps.

Éponine laid there with her eyes shut, heart beat racing as she kept trying to force herself to stop what was about to happen before it turned into something he regretted.

His brow furrowed and gently, he leaned closer to her legs. "What's this?" he whispered for only himself to hear.

She wasn't aware of his movements until she felt his hands press her knee caps and she flinched. She shot open her eyes to see Enjolras staring right back at her from below. Quickly, he crawled to the bedside table and turned on a small lamp, emitting the room in a yellow glow.

He looked back at her to see her now bringing her knees to her chest. "Éponine," he said in a low voice. She was staring back at him with fear etched into her eyes. "Why are your knees bruised?"

Her stomach dropped. She gaped at him, hugging her arms tightly around her legs. This was it now. There was no more hiding it. She was going to have to tell him. But how was she going to tell him. She wasn't ready to lose him yet. "No, no, no…" she muttered to herself. "I-I…" she choked back a sob, trying to abate the hurt behind her eyes from the oncoming tears.

"Éponine," Enjolras said again, this time in a warning tone. He had realized in this moment that all of this must have had something to do with why she'd been acting so strange. He knew it was more than stress, but he wasn't going to press it further if she didn't want to talk. But now, the situation was turning bizarre. "What happened?"

"I-I…" she stuttered again, at a loss for any other words. The tears rained down her cheeks and she buried her face in her knees, wishing to become invisible.

"You can tell me."

"I can't!" she cried. "I can't tell you…I can't, I can't."

Slowly, she felt the bed shift and he crawled closer to her, placing a comfortable hand on her shoulder. "Why can't you?"

She sucked in a breath, gathering the courage to speak. "Because you will punish me when I tell you."


	2. Part 2

**A/N: Well, Somehow I managed to have a quick update with this one. I can't thank you enough for all the reviews. And seriously, for Just a Guest, I don't know your review just made me SO happy. Thus, I will try to get another chapter of OHHH up by New Year's…one dedicated to you. **

**Thank you all, so so much. I can never say it enough. **

**And now, this will be longer than a two-shot…not sure on the length yet. Ps: sorry about the curse at the end.**

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Coerced  
Part 2

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"Éponine, please," he said softly, rubbing her shoulder tenderly.

She shied away from his touch, closing in on herself further and crying into her knees.

"You have to tell me. I know something has been bothering you, I can tell…but please you have to tell me what happened."

"B-but…you'll punish me when I tell you." She gently lifted her water-filled eyes up to his.

His heart just broke as he looked back at her. She was so fragile, so vulnerable, so scared. "I'm not going to. I would never punish you, Éponine. You know that. Please, though, you have to tell me."

She rocked gently back and forth, keeping her eyes glued on the bedsheets below, debating on what to say or how to even begin. She waited for a while, letting her breath return to a bit of normality. Enjolras was waiting for her to speak patiently, but she knew patience for a man can only last so long.

"Éponine," he said again.

She jumped at the sound of his voice. "It was work," she said quickly. Gathering a breath, she tried to speak again. "It was yesterday at work. Everything was fine. It was nearing the end of the day and…and mostly everyone had gone home already. B-but my boss - "

"Pierson?"

She nodded. "Yes, h-he asked me to photocopy a few letters for him before I packed up my things. So, I did...and when I-I returned to his office - " She shut her eyes tightly, being forced to watch the memory that she was trying desperately to forget. "H-he was in his office and he asked me to wait a minute. H-he started looking over the work a-and then he asked me…about you."

"About me? What was he asking?"

Éponine wiped her eyes on her bare knee, sniffling a bit. "He wanted to know what you do…and he wanted to know how long we had been dating for…he wanted to know how serious we were. He didn't ask about me really…he still doesn't know about 'Parnasse. But then…he started acting weird, he started saying how lucky you were. And I didn't really get it. But then, he stood up and locked his office door. H-he came up…right behind me…" Enjolras audibly gasped, hands balling into fists already. "Then, he asked me if you would mind sharing."

Enjolras grabbed ahold of Éponine's shoulders a little too roughly, making her look up at him. "Did he touch you?"

Her face crumpled before him and she broke into another sob. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…"

His brows creased with anger, hands tightening on her involuntarily. "Then what happened? Was that all?" Éponine shook her head as the tears continued to fall. "Then what? Éponine, you have to tell me."

She took in a large breath, steadying herself. "He starting saying all these things about how I look at him, about how he always sees me staring at him, about how I want him - But Enjolras! It's not true, it's not true. I don't, I don't. I've never done anything like that. But he wouldn't listen to me. He didn't care. H-he…he just kept talking while he held onto me and his hands got lower...and lower...and then, he called me a-a…a - "

"A what?"

She shut her eyes tightly and whispered, "A cock tease."

Enjolras' heart broke even further, his face fell into one of compassion and he cupped her soggy cheek even though her eyes wouldn't meet his.

"Please don't hate me, Enjolras. I'm so sorry…I tried not to - I didn't want to - I refused him."

Suddenly, Enjolras' ears perked and his soft movements on her cheek stopped. "What do you mean?" he asked hesitantly, now knowing there was more to this story.

"He made me…I swear! I tried…I tried to fight him…but he threatened me." The tears fell freely again as if they had never stopped.

"Éponine. You have to tell me what else happened. What did he make you do? What. Happened?" His voice was arctic and low, the muscles inside him were tightening in a growing rage. It was difficult not to explode right then and there.

"He…he…" She gulped for lost air, finding it suddenly difficult to breathe. Her dry mouth wasn't helping any. "He told me…to get on my knees. But I refused him. I told him I needed to be going. I told him that you were coming to pick me up. Then…he grabbed a book from his desk and whacked me across the knees with it. He told me again to get on my knees. But…I wouldn't. He started yelling. And then, when I wasn't expecting it, he hit me with the book in the back on my knees and I just fell to the ground. I smashed my kneecaps on the floor. He stood above me, and I tried to fight him. But he threatened me, saying he'd hurt me worse if I didn't listen to him…if I didn't cooperate. He grabbed me by the head and…." Her voice trailed off, finding the air leave her again. "We need the money, Enjolras. I wanted to make you proud. I wanted to keep my job. I couldn't let you take care of everything forever. I wanted to do this on my own. He said we'd only do this twice a week. I thought it would…I thought I could keep my job then..."

"After he grabbed your head, what happened next?"

She paused for a heartbeat. "He forced me to - " she whispered, the sounds of another sob threatening to fall. "...the zipper on his pants..." She couldn't even speak fully. The words losing themselves before they even made it out of her lips. "He made me…" She opened her mouth in an "O" shape before her voice collapsed into full blown sobbing again as she buried her head into her knees to hide the tears, to hide from Enjolras. "Please don't hurt me," she whimpered. "Please don't hurt me…I'm so sorry, Enjolras…I'm so sorry…please…just…"

Not knowing what else to do, Enjolras pulled Éponine's body close to his and just held her tightly. "I'm not going to hurt you," he breathed. "But I am going to hurt him."

"No! Enjolras! Please, I wasn't supposed to tell you. He made me swear not to tell anyone. He said if I told anyone, he said he'd find me and he said he'd hurt me. He said he'd slander my name so I could never find a job again."

His grip around her tightened momentarily and he clenched his teeth. It seemed to be that keeping her safe was the hardest task he ever dealt with. Would there never be an end to the evils in her world? Never be an end to her suffering? His voice came out as ice when he spoke next, he didn't mean to, but he couldn't help it; his virile personality was slipping through the cracks. "So what did you plan to do, Éponine? Keep working for him? Keep doing what he asked? And never tell me?"

Her body stilled in his arms, suddenly feeling suffocated him. "No…" she whimpered. "I don't know…I just…" She let out another cry. "I'm so sorry. Please, just please don't hurt me."

In a second, Enjolras released her and was on his feet, grabbing clothes from his dresser with a vexed expression in his eye.

Éponine clutched the sheets of the bed, watching all of his movements. "Please, I'm sorry, Enjolras." He ignored her, stalking to the closet and grabbing a belt off the belt rack. "Please!" she nearly screamed, feeling her heart rate increase, feeling herself almost faint from the fear. "I'll be good, I promise. I'll be a good girl, I'll be good, please don't punish me."

Mechanically, his head turned to hers. "If you think, I'm going to let that bastard get away with what he's done to you, then oh, Éponine, you don't even know me at all."

In the next instant, he was out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Éponine clambered to her feet in an effort to follow him. By the time she made it into the living room, Enjolras was by the front door, dress shirt on over slacks and he was tightening his belt around his waist. He gave her one final look of aggravation with pain situated behind his eyes, grabbed his keys and left the apartment.

Éponine stood shock-still staring at the closed door. Her puffy eyes were wide, her mind running rampant, not knowing what to do. She knew where he was going and she knew she needed to follow him. In no time at all, Éponine slipped on a simple green dress, threw on a pair of wedges and scrambled out of the door, forgoing all other parts of her morning routine.

As she made it outside, Enjolras' car was already gone. She ran a hand over her mouth and decided the only other option was to walk - well run - to her job. Wasting no time, she picked up speed, heading down the blocks and wishing she didn't chose wedges to go with her outfit in her recent haste.

...

Haphazardly, Enjolras parked his car and stalked into the main doors of The Boston Herald building. The place was dead quiet in the early morning except for a lone receptionist at the front desk.

"Is Jay Pierson in?" his harsh tone demanded.

"Do you have an appointment? He just got in like five minutes ago." The slender blonde looked up to Enjolras, pursing her plump cherry lips before turning them into a smile.

"What floor is his office on?"

"Do you have an appointment?" she countered again.

Enjolras balled his fists, clenching his teeth. "Yes, now tell me where his office is?"

"Name?" she asked, looking over at her computer.

He slammed his hand across the granite counter, causing the young blonde to jump. "Tell me where his damn office is! Or I swear to God..." He didn't finish that thought, instead opting to grit his teeth in a look of fury.

She sat terrified, hands trembling. "Fourteenth floor, room 1405...d-do you w-want me to call and tell him you're on your way?"

He stood back and straightened himself upright. "I don't think that will be necessary. Thank you very much for your cooperation..." He glanced over at the name plate on the counter and smiled, "...Noelle."

He backed himself away from the counter, sauntering to the elevator under Noelle's intriguing eye and pressed the button. As the elevator dinged and the doors opened, Enjolras entered, whistling to himself, and sending a sadistic smile to the receptionist before the doors closed.

As Enjolras made his way to the fourteenth floor, his whistled down the empty halls looking for the one room he needed. Finally, his sights landed on the numbers 1405 at the end of the corridor, and even more, the door held a gold name plate of: "Jay Pierson - Editor in Chief."

...

Éponine raced into the building, hair spewing in all directions.

"Éponine!" Noelle called from her desk at at taking in the sight of her co-worker. "What the hell happened, did you just run here or something?"

She landed across the desk. "Please, just tell me, did my fiancé come in here? Enjolras?"

"Fiancé? What did he look like?"

"He's tall, blonde hair..."

"Was he angry?"

"Oh god...where did he go?"

"Up to Pierson's office. Like not even ten minutes ago. I was actually going to call security but he said he had an appointment. I just thought he had a temper..."

Éponine groaned into her hands.

"Éponine, _what_ the hell happened?"

She picked herself up and took a deep breath. "I've got to go. I've got to take care of this." In an instant, she was jogging to the elevators, ignoring the sounds of her name echoing through the lobby.

...

"Hello? Can I help you with something?" His tone was friendly, seeming to be inviting, but Enjolras knew better than to fall for that act.

Enjolras stood in the doorway, staring intently at the man - the Mr. Jay Pierson himself; the pervert, the scumbag, the sleezeball himself. He sat behind his oak desk with a bewildered expression, trying to smile sweetly at the interruption. Looking once over, Jay was a very handsome man of thirty-five; caramel covered hair that flowed into a bit of scruff around his chin, a large build, and a pristine grey suit, matching the color of his steely eyes.

"I said, can I help you with something, sir? I don't have any meetings scheduled this morn - "

"I heard you the first time," Enjolras snapped, taking a bold step in the room and closing the door behind him.

Jay shut his mouth and pursed his lips. "Well, who are you? You come barging into my office - "

"I'm Éponine's fiancé."

The editor blanched behind the safety of his desk. Slowly, he rose to his feet, keeping his eyes trained on the intruder. "Well, sir, it's very nice to meet you. Is there anything I can do for you - "

His sentenced was silenced as Enjolras' bounded across the room, behind the desk, and grabbed the despicable editor by the lapels of suit, bringing his face only inches to his own. "You filthy bastard! What the hell is your problem?" Enjolras shook him harder, breath seething through his teeth. "Tell me something, do you like preying on innocent young girls? You like the power it gives you?"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about."

"Liar. Don't play stupid. You know exactly what I'm talking about." His face was beaming red, anger seeping out through each pore.

"Sir, you must be mistaken. But I'd appreciate if you let go of me and we can figure this out."

Enjolras shook the man harder in his hands, walking him backwards until he slammed him into his own bookshelf. "There's nothing to figure out. I know exactly what you did to Éponine."

Jay's eyes narrowed, jaw setting. "I won't tell you again. Let go of me," he said in a deadly tone.

"Enjolras!"

Both the men whipped their heads to the voice that forced open the door with a loud thud.

"Éponine?" Enjolras barked, in a voice still laced with rage. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing, Enjolras? Stop this. It won't solve anything."

"Éponine," he whispered, face momentarily melting, expression turning soft, and hands loosening on Jay's jacket. He saw the scared look on her face and squared his shoulders. He had to take care of it, he couldn't let Jay get away with this. "I'm taking care of it," he finalized, turning his hard eyes up to Jay once again. "Someone needs to teach this bastard a lesson and I'd be more than happy to have the honor of doing it."

Suddenly, like a noise being heard at the most inopportune time, Jay laughed; he tossed his head back and laughed. "You really think I'm the one to blame in all of this?" he asked Enjolras. "Ha! Why don't you ask that fiancée of yours. You should see the way she parades around this office, the way she waves that ass in my face...the flirting. God, you're lucky I didn't rape her ass the first week she was here. Lord knew how much she was asking for it."

The tears were brimming over Éponine's eyes now as she shook her head and trembled nervously in the center of the room. "N-no...I-I...I d-didn't..."

"You son-of-a-bitch!" Enjolras hollered as his fist connected with Jay's jaw. There was a gruesome sound of a crack and neither knew if it was the hand or the jaw. But Éponine cried out the second Enjolras pulled back his arm.

Jay's head lolled to the side for a moment before he righted himself up and smiled. "If you think I'm going to let some cheap Boston bartender - "

Enjolras looked dead into his sick smile and reeled back his fist, punching the smile right off his face and stopping him mid-sentence.

"Enjolras!" Éponine shrieked, hands covering her mouth.

"I've got a Masters in law!" he yelled loudly in the editors ear. "Oh, when I'm finished with you - "

"_Please_..." she begged, interrupting him, with tears now streaming down her face.

"Leave, Éponine," Enjolras growled. "Leave the room, right now."

"Please, Enjolras...please."

His eyes never left Jay. Honestly, he was too much enjoying watching the dark liquid that seeped from his nostrils. "Get. Out. Of. Here," he growled again.

"You little bitch," her boss chided in his dazed state. "You see what you caused? I told you not to tell anyone, didn't I?"

Jay was silenced with another punch in the nose. "Shut the hell up," Enjolras seethed to which Éponine only yelped and cried harder.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I'm so sorry."

"Get out of here, Éponine!" Enjolras yelled again.

The wooden door creaked as a timid blonde poked her head into the room and gasped. Everyone turned their attention to her and Jay spoke. "Lillian, get security here now, tell them to call the police."

"No, no, no!" Éponine cried, fidgeting her hands in agitation and turning her whole body to the blonde. "Lilly, please, we don't need to call the police, please, please."

"Don't listen to her, Lillian."

"What's going on, Éponine?" Lillian whispered tersely to her co-worker.

"Lillian! Go!" Jay bellowed, words loud enough to ring throughout the room.

Éponine stood dazed; immobilized as she clenched her hands to her chest, heart beat thumping, blood pounding through her ears. She opened her mouth to speak, but the only sounds that came out were sobs.

"For God's sake, Éponine! Can't you just do what you're asked and get out of here?" Enjolras' loud words broke through to her.

She turned to Enjolras just in time to see him pull his arm back again, eyes set on Jay. She had never seen him so angry, she had never seen him act so violent and she had never heard him raise his voice at her. Her breath caught in her throat and she could neither inhale nor exhale. Her mind fell still seeing only Jay's dark eyes staring lustfully at her, Lilian's confused eyes waiting for answers, and Enjolras' vengeful glare.

Jay looked her dead in the eye, leering at her. "This is all your fault, you cock-teasing bitch..."

Those words were enough to set Enjolras off. He let his fist lurch forward once again into the editor's face and it was at that moment, Éponine's world fell to blackness. The last things she heard before it all went dark were the sound of her own head hitting the floor and Enjolras' expletive falling off his tongue.

He stared down at her still body from across the room, heaving a sigh. "Fuck..."


	3. Part 3

**A/N: Well, took a bit longer than expected, but I've got the next chapter for you. Please enjoy! Thank you all again so much!**

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Coerced  
Part 3

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It was only a few minutes before her eyes drifted open once again. The pieces of the room slowly came together until she was staring lazily into the eyes of Enjolras.

His hand slowly rubbed her shoulder and she moaned, stretching out her arms. For a moment, she could pretend none of this was happening, she could pretend she was home, waking up from a wonderful night's sleep. Sadly, this was not the case. Enjolras' eyes lifted above her. "Stay with her," he whispered into the air mysteriously, "I'm gonna move her to the couch."

Without waiting for a reply, Enjolras tucked his arms underneath her and lifted her from the floor with a grunt. As Éponine's world shifted, she saw Jay sitting in his office chair, staring daggers at her. His face was swollen, lip pouring blood, eye half open, and face already beginning to turn a sickly shade of purple. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to block him out. Soon, Enjolras' arms were replaced with a cold leather and she opened her eyes again to see Enjolras and Lillian looking down at her.

"Don't leave her side," Enjolras commanded as he took a walk back over to Jay.

Enjolras kicked Jay's legs, swiveling the office chair to turn and face him as he caught the armrests and leaned over it, his own face now merely inches from Jay.

"Now," Enjolras began, "the way I see it, you have two options. Option one, you can pack up all your stuff in this office right now, hand in a letter of resignation - no warning, no reason - just leave and never be seen here again. Then, Éponine would get to keep her job, the police won't be involved, and you're free to start over. But then again, I'd be throwing you a bone if we went with option one. So, option two - " Enjolras held up two fingers to make his point bright and clear. "I call the police. We tell them everything that happened. You get charged with sexual assault and I sue you for everything but your kitchen sink. Éponine gets to keep her job and you get fired. Hell, you'd be lucky to find a job flipping burgers when I'm through with you - "

"Then what? So, you call the police. They're gonna charge you for assault and battery. Nice try, asshole."

Enjolras grit his teeth before smirking. "I've got a Masters is Law, or did you forget? I know how it works. I can't be held criminally liable for any of this. And if I recall, you attacked me first. Hit me right in the cheek. Good thing I don't bruise easily."

Jay dropped his mouth in shock.

"I was only protecting myself," he continued with mock innocence. "It's your word against mine. And besides, I've got a clean record. I can almost guarantee, if the police get involved, we can find some dirt on you. Say a buried sexual harassment charge, perhaps? I'm sure Éponine's not your first."

The boss sat there, eyes stoically boring into the blonde in front of him.

"So, what's it gonna be?" he prompted.

Without saying a word, Jay shoved Enjolras back and stood to his feet. Immediately, he opened up his desk drawers and began pulling papers out and stacking them in piles on his desk. He pulled picture frames from their spots, and began stacking them on top of the papers.

"Aw, I was really hoping for option two," Enjolras jibed, watching his every movement like a hawk.

Jay sent him a glare before continuing to pack up his items. He turned his dead eyes to the petite young blonde. "Lillian, tell HR, I'll be over there shortly with a letter of resignation. Don't tell them why, but just tell them I'll be there."

Lillian looked to Enjolras quickly before standing to her feet and walking to the door.

"Lillian," Enjolras called, making his way over to her. He lowered his voice in a deadly tone. "Speak one word of what happened in this room today, and you'll be looking for a new job next."

She gulped timidly and glanced one more look to a wide-eyed Éponine, huddled together on the leather couch, before backing out of the room.

Jay held a large pile of this things, stuffing most of it into his satchel as he headed for the door. Enjolras caught him with a hand on his shoulder. "You can make sure I'll follow through with you...just to make sure you're doing what you're supposed to. You touch - no, you so much as come _near_ Éponine again and I'll murder you."

Jay sent a sidelong glance to Éponine. "Nothing but a cock-teasing bitch," he muttered before calling out: "Be careful who you're marrying, sweetheart. Step outta line and this one might murder you - " His sentence was cut off with another punch in the side of his face.

"Shut up!" Enjolras snapped, sending another shove along with his words. "Keep walking."

Soundlessly, Jay left the room and Enjolras slammed the door behind him. Éponine let out a yelp with a jump of fright as Enjolras focused his eyes on her.

"Oh, Éponine..." His rigid face melted as he bounded over to her, without fail, taking her shaking form into his embrace.

Her face crumpled into tears and she sat there, taking in everything, immersing herself in what honestly just happened. Everything changed in the blink of an eye, and even though she was safe and he had just rescued her, she couldn't find it within herself to hug Enjolras back. Instead, she buried her face in his neck, losing herself to his warmth, and letting every emotion hit her at once.

"Shh..." he whispered, rubbing her back in circles. "Everything's alright now. No one's going to bother you again." In a few moments time, he stood to his feet, wrapping an arm around Éponine and leading her out of the office. "Let's go home," he whispered.

Neither said a word as they walked slowly to the end of the hallway. Upon reaching the desk by the elevator, Lillian's head snapped up and her eyes widened in terror. "H-he...j-just went down-n-n to HR...it's t-taken care of." Her stuttering and reaction did not go unnoticed by Éponine, who was similarly just as scared of her fiancé.

"Thank you," Enjolras said warmly. "Would you please inform who you have to that Éponine needs to go home sick today. I'm sure you understand."

"O-of...course."

"Perhaps you should consider going home as well."

"Ok-kay," she stammered, trying to catch Éponine's eyes, but the brunette wouldn't meet her gaze.

Enjolras smiled affectionately, a great contrast to his state only a few minutes ago. Keeping his arm fixed around Éponine, he escorted her to the elevators and out of the building. There was not a word spoken the entire time they walked out of the building, to his car, and on the drive home. Éponine stayed impassively silent and Enjolras did not bother to start a conversation. Because really, what was there to say after an incident like that?

When they arrived back at the apartment, Enjolras led the way into their home, flexing his cracked, bloodied knuckles and wandering into the bathroom to clean them up.

As for Éponine, she stood in the center of the living room, hugging her arms tightly around herself, doing her best not to cry. She didn't know what to do with herself, she didn't know where to go, what to say, make, eat; her mind was living chaos.

She sucked in a large breath and walked herself to the bathroom door. Rapping on the door lightly, she waited for Enjolras to open it.

He smiled kindly as he opened the door to her, holding up his hand which was only half bandaged. "Hey," he breathed.

"Hey...um...I was - "

"How's your head?"

She rubbed her forehead at the mention of it. "Fine...but um..."

"I should get Ferre to come over and look at it. You fell pretty hard. Do you still feel dizzy?"

"No, not really...but - "

"I'd still like Ferre to come over and look at you." He focused his attention on cleanly swathing the bandage around his hand as he talked.

"I was just wondering if I could take a shower," she spit out.

He stepped closer to the sink to make room for her to walk by and continued wrapping up the bandage. "Go ahead," he said with a shrug.

Éponine let out an exhale as she walked into the center of the tiny room. "Um...C-could you step out...w-while I get in?"

His brow furrowed as he stared at her quizzically. "Uhh...sure..."

Without any further exchange, Enjolras left and shut the door behind him. Éponine stood there still like a puppy without a home, turning her head side to side as she figured out what to do first. Her lip began to tremble but she didn't let the tears fall. Mechanically, she turned on the water and undressed.

She stood in the shower, waiting for Enjolras to walk back in, but he never did. She thought about calling out to let him know he could come back in, but she decided against it. Well, the door was unlocked if he needed to return.

The hot water poured over her as she looked up into the stream of it and closed her eyes. She finally let the tears rain from her eyes, mixing along with the water, relishing in how she could not tell the difference. His words replayed over and over in her mind, forcing tears from her eyes relentlessly.

"_Be careful who you're marrying, sweetheart. Step outta line and this one might murder you."_

Was that true? Was Enjolras truly capable of such things? Was he really such a terrible man? She had never seen him act this way before, she had never seen him threaten a man's life no matter what the circumstances had been. Even with Montparnasse, he never once said he would kill him. He had wished terrible things to fall upon him - but death?

And did all of this mean that in the end, if she did one wrong thing - one terrible, terrible act - did it mean Enjolras would turn on her? Would he really snap one day, and beat her mercilessly just as he did to her boss? That thought had her dry heaving, gasping in large gulps of air, swallowing breaths of water as she sunk to the shower floor, wrapping her arms around herself and just crying.

Would she ever be safe?

She didn't know how long she had been crying for when a small knock was heard on the door. "Éponine?" She didn't answer as she fumbled to her feet, clasping the walls to help her stand. The door opened a crack. "Éponine? Are you okay?"

She sniffled, wiping her hand over her nose. "I'm fine," she croaked out.

"I-I...I just thought I heard - nevermind. Are you sure you're okay? You wanna talk?"

She shook her head and then realized he couldn't see her through the steam on the glass. "No. I'm okay...I'm fine."

"Y-you sure...? I'm right here if you need me, okay?" The door opened fully and Enjolras stepped into the bathroom. The steam covered the entire room in a dense fog, flooding out of the room through the open door.

"Okay," she said in a small voice.

He paused, leaning up against the bathroom countertop. "I called Ferre. He can stop by on his lunch break and just check you over. I'd prefer not to take any chances, okay?"

"Okay."

"I...uh...I can call and order something for lunch, or just make some soup."

"Okay."

He grimaced. "What would you prefer?"

She was silent this time. "Soup is fine," she said after an eternity.

He looked about the room and at her strewn clothes on the soggy bathroom tiles, looking for any conversation. "I took the day off today...you know. Just to stay home with you. I really didn't want to leave you alone. Courf said he could cover my shift tonight." He paused, waiting for her to say anything but she didn't. The water ran diligently in the silence, the only source of noise in this gauche tension. "Umm...you sure everything is alright?"

"Yeah. It's all fine."

"O...kay. Well...when you're done in the shower, we could watch a film or something...or take a nap. Just...umm. Yeah."

"Okay," she said again and this time Enjolras cringed at the word.

"I'll let you finish up then," he said, tapping twice on the counter.

"Okay."

The little word came out again as he opened the door and stepped out of the room. Once it was fully shut, he let out a long exhale, pinching the bridge of his nose.

...

"Alright," Combeferre announced, placing the stethoscope around his neck, "vitals look good, coordination is fine. Aside from a little bump on the head, I think you're just fine, Éponine."

"Thank you," she said timidly, glancing quickly to Enjolras who stood right behind Combeferre.

"And you don't feel any pain anywhere, right?"

"No." She turned her eyes downcast, folding her hands in her lap and delicately swirling her engagement ring around her finger. "Um...could I maybe have a cup of coffee or something warm?"

"Sure," Enjolras said, smiling as he turned around and walked out of the bedroom.

Combeferre turned to his satchel, placing various items back into it. "Sorry again to have woken you, but I do only have an hour."

"No. Please, it's alright. Thank you for coming."

The pediatrician paused, looking down at her. "Are you sure you're alright? I mean, I expect you to be a little freaked out after what happened, but...you just seem a little out of sorts. Do you have a headache?"

Éponine rubbed her forehead, closing her eyes in concentration. "A little one, I guess. I'm just a but tired."

"Understandable." He nodded once and placed his satchel around his head and arm.

"Hey...Ferre?" she hesitantly began.

"Hmm?"

"H-have...have you ever seen Enjolras get a-angry before?"

He sighed, taking a seat on the bed next to her. "Once. When we were in college. Other than that, he is normally very level-headed. Anger's rare with him, and I must say, it's not a good color on him." He tried to chuckle, but Éponine just continued.

"What happened in college?"

"A rally. He was the leader of our small club, we were trying to make a change. The school started admitting people through quota, not based on merit, and we wouldn't stand for it. It wasn't fair to so many other students who were denied. But that aside, Enjolras led a revolt against the school - "

"I remember him talking about it once."

Combeferre nodded. "Right, well, that was the last time I recall him getting angry. I've never seen him with as much passion for something...well, that is, not until recently."

"What do you mean?"

"You."

She raised her eyes, gaping at him incredulously.

"You," he said again. "You are the closet thing I've ever seen him be as passionate about. In college, he was all about his studies, all about the club and doing what is right for the underprivileged. But since that has faded, he's been lost for years...until he met you. _You_ are his passion now."

Éponine shut her eyes again, listening to the words completely. "But h-he got so angry." She opened her eyes, staring anxiously at Combeferre, tears brimming in her wide orbs. "I'm scared..."

Combeferre gazed back at her with sympathy cascaded across his features, he opened his mouth to speak but the bedroom door opened.

"Cream and sugar," Enjolras announced, bounding into the room with a steaming mug. "Just the way you like it." He crossed over to the pair and handed Éponine the mug.

"Thank you," she said meekly, taking it with two hands.

"Well, Ferre," Enjolras addressed, clasping his friend on the back. "Thanks again for coming. Let me show you out."

Combeferre gave a nod, rising to his feet as he glanced back at Éponine. She gave him a nod as well and he regretfully turned away from her, saying goodbye and walking to the front door with Enjolras.

"Enj," he began, standing in the doorway, hand on the handle. "Um...how..._angry_ did you get today?"

Enjolras shrugged, grimacing. "No more than was necessary."

"Well, did you _consider_ how you were acting?"

"Ferre. I took care of it. That's what matters. I made sure that bastard won't get anywhere near her again. Heck, I even let him walk away. In hindsight, I could've done a lot worse. And honestly, I don't even remember thinking, I just...acted."

"Well there's the problem Enj! Listen, with Éponine - " But Combeferre's sentence was cut off from a vibrate in his pocket. Quickly, he reached into the deep pocket of his white lab coat and pulled out his phone. "Hello?" he answered. "What? - Hold on, I'm coming...yeah...I got it. No, don't send 'em to the ER just yet...I'll be right there. I'm on my way. Tell 'em to sit tight - Good." He hung up and put the phone back into his pocket. "Look, I've got to go, there's an emergency. But please, Enjolras, just talk to her. There is more to this than you realize."

"She doesn't want to talk. Don't you think I've tried?"

Combeferre backed up a step. "Look, I'll call you later, but I've really got to go. Just try talking to her again."

"About what? Ferre!"

"I've got to go, Enj!" he called back as he nearly sprinted down the stairs and down the sidewalk to his car.

Enjolras let out a groan, closing the door and resting his head on it. He shook his head side to side before finally picking himself up and heading into the bedroom. There, he found Éponine lying on her side, facing away from him, on top of the covers, tucked into a ball. The coffee mug was sitting on the nightstand, still steaming. Climbing into the bed, he delicately crawled closer to her. "Éponine?" he whispered. "You awake?"

Immediately, she flinched away, closing in on herself tighter as he approached.

He paused his motions, watching her intently. "Hey," he breathed again. "You alright?" She nodded feebly. "You sure?" He watched her nod again. "Would you like to go back to sleep? Or would you rather watch something? I'm sure there is something on the DVR..."

"I'd like to sleep, if that's alright."

Enjolras forced a nod. "Yeah, that's fine. We can rest for awhile." He snuggled himself closer to her and once again, she shied away. "Éponine?" he cautiously asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

On the spot, she lurched away from him, inhaling sharply and clutching the corner of the bed as if she were going to fall off. Her breathing turned ragged and her whole body heaved.

"Éponine," he said again, louder and worriedly this time as he reached to pull her back onto the bed. As soon as his hand made contact with her arm, she flung herself onto the ground, landing on her already bruised knees and scrabbling into a ball.

"Don't touch me!" she nearly screamed, tucking her head into her knees and clutching onto her own legs for dear life.

"Éponine?" he questioned softly, voice coated with hurt and distress. Slowly, he crawled off the bed and to the floor, reaching out a tentative hand to her.

The second his finger made contact with her skin, she jerked away from him, crying out, "Please! Go away!" Her breathing was labored as she hyperventilated into her knees, wracking back and forth. She didn't realize she was even crying until she felt a wet drop stain her kneecap. "Please..." she begged. "Don't touch me."

Enjolras was at a loss, staring at her with incredulousness and anguish. It was then, for the first time in his life, he felt helpless.

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**A/N: Thanks again for reading! I don't know why, but I feel like you all are very disappointed with this chapter. I just have this feeling… And the way it's ended…I think I have another chapter planned in order to wrap things up.**


	4. Part 4

**A/N: I apologize for the shortness of this one…and I apologize for the mess I'm making. Please don't hate either of them! That's all I ask.**

**Also. I'd just like to shoutout PhantomoftheBarricade1832 for everything that was happening in her life today. I'm praying, honey. Please don't cry…and don't cry reading this chapter...**

**Thank you all once again! And now…I think maybe 6 parts?**

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Part 4

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"I'm disgusting."

The words just dropped like a bomb before she even thought twice about saying them. But it was the cold and ugly truth and she knew it all too well. The word was familiar in her mind, she had been told it for a long time, but now she finally believed it.

"No, honey, don't say that. You aren't," Musichetta lightly said, placing an affectionate hand on Éponine's shoulder.

The two girls sat side by side in Musichetta's living room on the couch. Two glasses of wine sat before them on the coffee table, untouched. They had just finished up dinner, Enjolras suggested that Éponine not be left alone, and so here she was while he worked a long shift at the Musain today.

Éponine lifted her watery eyes to her friend as her lip trembled. "But I am. What is so wrong with me, Musichetta? Why can I do anything right?"

"Please, honey, you aren't to blame in any of this - "

"How can you say that! I sucked off my boss in his office and watched Enjolras beat him up for it. I feel so guilty Chetta. I caused all of this!" Éponine shook her head back and forth, hands wringing together nervously. "I should just let him punish me for what I did. Then I would stop feeling so guilty," she mumbled to herself.

Musichetta cupped the side of Éponine's face and looked her straight in the eye. "You know that's not how it works anymore. You don't need to be punished for this. You did nothing wrong."

"Yes, I did. I'm a dirty, _disgusting_ whore. Enjolras must hate me. But maybe if he punishes me, then I'll stop feeling guilty, maybe he'll forgive me."

The red head shook her head again, this time giving Éponine a vexed stare that she was all to familiar with. "Don't you dare speak like that again, you understand?" Éponine gave a few quick nods and Musichetta's expression softened. "No one will ever punish you again, even if I have to personally make sure of that. Those days are over, Éponine. No one will ever lay a hand on you like that again. And you shouldn't feel guilty at all…for any of this. This is not your fault."

"But it doesn't make what I did okay." Éponine's lip was trembling again on the verge of another sob. "I'm truly sorry for it…"

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You were a victim of circumstance. But if you want to apologize for it, just tell him."

"I-I can't just tell him!"

"Why not, honey?"

"I can't, Chetta, I just can't," she cried. "I can't talk to him, I can't even look at him the same way anymore. All I see is a monster when I look at him."

Not knowing any other action, Musichetta wrapped her arms around Éponine and pulled her into her chest, lightly shushing her while she stroked her long dark hair. "He wouldn't hurt you, 'Ponine. You have to know that."

"I used to think that," she whimpered into Musichetta's chest. "But I don't know any more. What if I do something really terrible one day, what if I make a really big mistake? And what if he just snaps one day and hurts me?"

The red head peeled back, just to lock eyes with Éponine. "Honey, I'm going to be blunt for a moment, and this might not be something you want to hear, but just listen." Éponine gave a tentative nod. "You're going to have to trust him. You're going to have to trust that he won't do anything like that. He would never hurt you. You two love each other. Loved ones don't hurt each other."

Éponine stayed still and quiet. She cast her hazel eyes to the floor, shoulders hunching in on herself as a tremble ripped through her body. "Yes. They do," she whispered quietly.

Musichetta's breath hitched in her throat at the realization of what she just said. She stayed silent for a moment, chewing her tongue on how to rectify what she had said, deciding in the end to keep going. "If this is what is really worrying you, then you need to talk to Enjolras. You need to tell him how you feel. You can't shut him out forever. He doesn't deserve that."

Her last words hurt worse than the rest of them had. But it was true. Enjolras didn't deserve to be treated this way. He was only trying to protect her at the heart of the situation. But perhaps it wasn't that Enjolras didn't deserve this, perhaps it was that he didn't deserve _her_ and all the grief that came along with her. This wasn't fair to him…_she_ wasn't fair to him.

"I-I don't t-think I can," Éponine stuttered. "I don't know if I can trust him," she clarified, heaving a long sigh to hold in a sob. "It's hard for me to talk to him. I can't do this to him. I think we've been rushing things. I-I don't know. But I know you're right, he doesn't deserve this…he doesn't deserve any of this. And all I'm doing is hurting him." She covered her hands with her mouth, casting her tear-filled eyes up to the ceiling. But soon she lowered her hands and her eyes, her gaze catching glimpse of the bright diamond fastened to he finger. The sight of it only brought more tears down her cheeks. She touched it lightly, shuddering at everything it meant. "I'm sorry…I don't mean to hurt him…But I don't know…" Suddenly, she stood to her feet. "I'm sorry, Chetta, I'm sorry. I just have to - I'm gonna go. I didn't mean to bother you with all of this."

"'Ponine, please don't go."

"Yes, Musichetta. I just need to think some more. I'm sorry…" Éponine headed for the door, grabbing her purse from the table and wiping her eyes before she headed out into the busy streets.

"Don't go," she whispered again.

But Éponine didn't listen, she gave a sad and small smile before she opened the door and left.

...

"Four days."

"Four days?"

"Yeah, _four_ days, Ferre. I haven't touched Éponine in four days," Enjolras gravely explicated, resting most of his weight on his hands as he leaned across the bar counter.

Grantaire abruptly laughed from the left side of Combeferre. The drunk was nursing his second beer, already trying to drink himself into a stupor at only six o'clock at night. "So that means, you and Éponine haven't been shaking the bed in _four_ days?"

Enjolras sent him a death glare, eyes hooding over. "This is serious, R."

Grantaire tossed his head back along with another gulp of beer. "Sorry, ah, it's just I thought ever since you two moved in together, you've been at it like rabbits."

The blonde's stare only intensified, mentally strangling the poor drunk. "No, Grantaire. We haven't. So, I'd appreciate you keeping your jokes out of my relationship."

"Sorry, Enj…" Grantaire said, sobering up, grin falling off his face as he looked to the counter.

Enjolras heaved a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry. I'm just - this is really stressing me out. I've barely even talked to her."

"She still won't talk?" Combeferre questioned, leaning in closer across the counter.

"Nope. I've barely had a conversation with her that was anything more than monosyllables. Every time I take a step closer to her, she backs away. Or if I accidentally stand too close while we're doing dishes, she takes a step away from me. She's been sleeping so close to the edge of the bed, I'm afraid she's gonna fall off. And last night, she got up during the night and slept on the couch. I don't even know what to do anymore. She keeps her head down, she doesn't even want to look at me."

"What about the wedding?" Grantaire interrupted.

"It's off as far as I can see. Neither if us have even brought up the subject."

"It's _that_ bad?" Combeferre asked, eyes going wide.

"That's not even the half of it. I stopped by her job to check up on Jay and make sure he resigned. I didn't tell her I came by, but I asked a few of her co-workers how she has been and they all said the same thing - depressed, worried, quiet. They said she barely talks, she sits by herself, and she doesn't do anything except her work. But the good news is that Jay held up his end of the deal, he left and so I know he hasn't been bothering her anymore."

"Enjolras," Combeferre began. "Perhaps you should give Dr. Lambeau a call. Just schedule another appointment…it couldn't hurt. Maybe she'll talk to him?"

Enjolras shrugged. "But I don't want her to get mad at me for it. What am I supposed to do? Say 'Oh Éponine, I called your psychiatrist and figured you could talk to him. Maybe he can convince you that I'm not going to beat you to a pulp?' Yeah, that'll go over real well."

Combeferre was not amused as his jaw clenched. "This attitude of yours, yeah, this is going to do a lot of good. This is what got you into this mess in the first place," he chided before dropping his voice lower. "You can't think of it like that. You're doing this to help her, not hinder her." He sighed rubbing the back of his neck in concentration. "I don't know, maybe you can ask him to up her anti-depressants again? But I think calling him would be best right now. Even if he can just give _you_ advice on what to do."

Enjolras nodded briefly. "I guess so." He paused for a long minute, surveying the situation over in his mind. "This whole situation just sucks. Why can't people just leave her alone? She wasn't bothering anyone. Ugh, we were doing just fine, making good progress…now I feel like we're back at square one."

"Then start back at square one," Grantaire shrugged. "That's my honest advice to you. If you feel like you're there, then start from there again."

Enjolras and Combeferre simultaneously stared at him, both in total shock. "That's actually not bad advice, R," the pediatrician said with a slight smile. He turned and looked over at Enjolras. "He's right. Start back at the beginning. Do what you did at the start. Give her her space, take her out for a movie, do something nice. Just remind her you're not Montparnasse."

"But I thought that's what I've been doing…"

"Well, then do it more," he plainly said. "You guys will get through this. If she can come around once, she can come around again."

Enjolras just sighed, but this time he nodded, deciding his friends were right. This is what he needed to do.

…

Two in the morning rolled around and Enjolras sent the drunks home, stacked the chairs on the tables, and put away all the fresh glasses for tomorrow. He wiped down the counter one final time and mopped up the floor. To say he was exhausted would be an understatement, but by now he was used to the late nights of closing up the bar. However, if it wouldn't have been for this week's turn of events, he might have had more energy to close up, but sadly that was not the case.

His head pounded in the makings of a headache, but he reveled in the idea of going home to sleep and at least to see Éponine, even if he couldn't touch her. Those thoughts spurred him on for the drive home until he finally was putting the key in the lock and walking inside.

In the darkness, he was sure to be quiet, knowing Éponine was sleeping somewhere; most likely the sofa rather than the bed he figured. But as he furthered himself into the apartment, he didn't see a shadow sleeping on the couch nor a mess of blankets. Perhaps she actually decided to sleep in bed?

Thus, Enjolras figured it was safe to turn on the kitchen light, knowing it wouldn't wake a sleeping Éponine in the living room. He crossed around the island, opening up the refrigerator for a glass of water - anything to quench his thirst before bed. He picked up a carton of juice, and tipped it back, drinking straight from the carton. It was only then that a little shimmer caught his eye. Lowering the carton from his lips gingerly, he walked hesitantly to the island, getting closer and closer to the little shimmer.

Finally, he gasped, his heart plummeting to the earth. There, on the counter, sat Éponine's engagement ring. He picked it up immediately, carton falling to the counter and his hand fisting around the little cold object as he let a growing anxiety take him over. Without wasting a second, he sprinted into the bedroom. "Éponine?" he questioned into the darkness of the room. "Éponine!" he said louder in an effort to wake her without physically shaking her. He didn't care about waking her from her sleep or that it was the dead of night, he needed answers now and they needed to talk this out even if it killed them.

He growled in frustration and tossed on the light. The room illuminated in a white glow and then Enjolras was met face to face with an empty bed, sheets pulled taught and tucked in, all with the pillows placed meticulously on top. This time, his heart fell deep and hard out of his chest and into the core of the earth. His lips trembled as he clutched the little ring tighter, sure to leave an imprint there tomorrow. Quickly, he was searching about the room, tossing open the dresser drawers and searching for her items. Most were no where to be found. Even the closet hung empty of most of her clothes. In an instant, he was out of the bedroom again, opening up the bathroom only to find it empty as well. He opened up every closet, he even looked under the table. "Éponine!" he shouted. "Éponine!"

He took out his phone, dialing her number and waited. The ringing felt like it would never cease and finally it went to voicemail, her cheery voice only enhancing his heartbreak. He called her number again, only to receive no answer a second time…and then another…and another.

It was only when he began opening up drawers and flinging objects and utensils out of them in an effort to find her, that he let the tears fall. He sunk to the ground against the kitchen cabinets, landing on the cold tile and resting his eyes in the heel of his hands. Still, clutching the ring, he finally gazed at it with blurry vision.

If it were different circumstances, perhaps he would've been happy for her. She finally did it. She finally had the courage to leave. Something she had struggled with for so long, something that she was determined she could never do. But now, it seemed she found the strength. She took herself out of what she heavily believed was the beginnings of another abusive relationship. Without a word, she just left.

But Enjolras never thought he would be the one she would walk out on. Never in a thousand years did he consider that. All he was trying to do was protect her. But now here it was happening to him and he would do anything to rewind time; anything to get her back. But no. Now he was facing the ugly truth.

She was gone.

"Éponine…" he croaked weakly. "I'm sorry…"

And in the silence of the house, the only sounds heard were his sobs echoing throughout.


	5. Part 5

**A/N: So, I certainly, just made things a lot worse than before. Oops. Well, hey, I'm sorry for taking so dreadfully long and I'm so sorry that I am behind in my stories and I'm sorry that I never replied to the reviews last chapter. But thank you all so much for them, you have no idea what they mean to me. **

**So yes, this chapter made things much worse, but next chapter will be where I will end everything. And I know you will be wondering how. But trust me. I've got it planned. But I am sorry if you hate Enjolras in this. Be warned, you may. But yes, next chapter will resolve things mostly, and that's all I will say. So don't come at me with your National Guard and canons yet, I will make things better. **

**And yes, I am sorry for adding two curses into this. But I guess you can say that I'm getting a bit more brazen now that I used it once. Again, I will use them sparingly. But here, it was needed.**

**Well, thanks all again for sticking with me. Hope you like it…maybe?**

* * *

...

Coerced  
Part 5

...

* * *

What was he supposed to do now? It was nearing three a.m. and so far he had done nothing but wallow on the kitchen floor. Where could she have even gone? The most plausible answer to that question was to Azelma's house or to Musichetta's. But was it too early to call them? Would they even answer?

_Your freaking fiancée is missing, of course it is warranted to call them, _part of his brain reasoned. _But they won't even answer if you do. Best to wait until morning, call and then go see them. Go to bed, _the other half of his mind countered.

But how was he supposed to sleep if her presence wasn't even next to him? How could he pass the time without her gentle breaths lulling him to sleep? There was no way he could possibly go to sleep, there was no way sleep would even find him in this state. He could barely even _think_ in this apartment right now, how was he supposed to sleep? Everything reminded him of her. He needed to get out of here. He needed to go somewhere.

And did it matter to him that it was three a.m. and he wanted to go for a walk? Not even in the slightest. So he picked his broken self up off the floor, slipping her ring into his back pocket, and left the safety of the apartment for the charcoal streets of night.

...

She hazily walked along the sidewalks, now blackened from the night cast over them, trying her hardest not to cry, trying her hardest to remain strong. She didn't have a plan in mind, didn't really know where to go. But she needed to walk, if only for a bit. The silence and solitude were always her friends in times like these. The walk never really cleared her mind, but it made the thoughts tolerable, it kept her from going insane. Walking relaxed and eased her as she would think about her next objective. Thus that was the only plan she had in mind right now - to walk.

She figured that perhaps come the light of dawn, she would wander herself with tired feet to her best friend's house, but for now, she didn't see the point. It wasn't like Musichetta would open the door now anyway - she was a heavy sleeper. But maybe Joly would at least hear the knock? Oh but Joly would inform Enjolras right away...and Azelma just lived to far away to walk there.

So she settled on her plan for now: walking upright, holding in the tears, and staying strong. Yet each time she reminded herself of her strength, she always heard that little word echoed in the back of her mind again and again.

"Disgusting."

...

"_You make me sick," he spit, curling up his lip in disgust. "There's a reason why no one likes you. Hell, you even disgust me."_

"_Then, I'll leave..." she whispered boldly, staring at the floor, rather than his eyes._

_He tossed his head back laughing. "You think someone will take in the sorry likes of you? You're damaged goods. You have no where to go without me. There isn't another person who will understand you like I do. You don't even have a pretty enough face to be a whore. You're a filthy. Dirty. Disgusting. Creature."_

_She couldn't help it as the tears rained from her eyes again. _

"_I hate you! I hate everything about you! I hate what you've done to me! Look at who you've made me become!" he bellowed as he steadily stomped toward her._

_Éponine sobbed harder the closer he got to her. He latched onto her upper arms and walked her backwards until she slammed into the wall. _

...

Yes, those words were true. Those were the words that held an infinitesimal amount of truth, a truth that made any man turn his nose up at her. No man liked her, she was sure of that now, she disgusted all of them. The acts she had committed over the course of her life made her despicable. No man in their right mind would want to stay with her after knowing of the things Montparnasse did to her, the things she did to him, and now what she did to her boss. She reasoned that the only thing she was good for was what men could get from her, and even though she never gave it, they always took it.

It made her disgusting.

She surely disgusted Enjolras now. He never outright said it, but she could feel it in the hesitation every time they touched. It was as if she were diseased. So she wouldn't let him touch her. She didn't want to see the pity in his eyes when he held her, but also knowing how quickly he could snap her bones if he wanted to kept her at a arm's length from him at all times. It was only a matter of time before he uttered those words to her - whether they be purposeful or by accident and she just couldn't be around when he finally did. So she left without a word, left before he could break her heart any further and before she broke him.

It was only a matter of time before he hated her just as everyone else eventually did. Even with Enjolras, she always made him mad in the end. She caused him so much pain, she hurt him worse than anyone before. He would always get mad at little things and silently fume away from her. She respected him for that, but she knew it was hurting him - no, she knew _she_ was hurting him. So she couldn't stay.

Enjolras was angry much of the time now, her silence made him crass, his speech short, his temper fumed. It was only a matter of time before he hurt her too. She did not want him to harbor the guilt for that when it happened - as she knew he would - and so she left.

And most of all, she was not owned by him. She was owned by no one anymore. Still, the one thought always ran prominent in her mind and because of that, she left.

...

_The room fell still with only their breaths invading the insatiable tranquility._

_Éponine lay spent, feeling as if she were dead, thinking that perhaps maybe if she were dead, it wouldn't be such a bad thing. The pain would be gone, her thoughts nonexistent, no worry, no grief, no strife…just calm. But her eyes parted from the white haze overtaking her vision, giving her a clear glimpse at the bedroom ceiling and the tuffs of black hair haphazardly in front of her - and Éponine knew that she was not dead. No, death would be too easy a solution for her and so life would not give it to her. It didn't take long for her brain to process what had just happened and soon a sob racked through her again._

_Drearily, Montparnasse lifted his head from her chest and he glared at her crying features ominously. "Whose are you?" he asked in an exasperated voice._

_She took in a shaky breath, closing her eyes and letting a few more fresh tears rain down the sides of her face. "…yours."_

"_Damn, right."_

_..._

Though his words were not true anymore, Éponine always recalled them with much clarity. Why she always recalled them baffled her. But yet, she knew a part of her soul still thought it belonged to him. Part of her would always love that young and handsome man who used to protect her. But that boy was dead, replaced by some hideous, rancor beast of a man that only wanted to own her. She was safe from that man now, but he still haunted her. The image of him chastised her for running away but she continued on undeterred.

Éponine braved the chilled summer night air as she trudged a suitcase behind her. She walked proudly down the streets alone, not afraid of anyone or anything, for anything these shadows held, she certainly had had worse. She didn't know where to walk to or how to get there right now, but she knew that if she kept walking, she wouldn't need to sleep and thus, everything would be okay. In the morning light, she could figure out where to go. But for now, she just walked.

As she turned the corner, heading around a block, she could see the haze of barroom smoke pouring out of a door in the distance. Outside the door sat a crowd of four men, all loud and rowdy, cackling with laughter, each haloed in the glow of light and smoke. She stiffened her back, ready to walk past them. The scent of weed overflowed her nostrils, a headache quickly forming from the smell alone. These men were obviously drunk out of their minds and high on God knows what and so she knew no harm would come to her, not if she walked quickly and not if she kept her eyes down...and only if no one recognized her.

"Éponine?" a voice sneered as she approached closer.

_Dammit. _

"'Ponine? Is that you?"

She stopped on her heel, only a mere five feet from where they were sitting, her eyes swiftly darting to theirs. Quickly, she whipped around, nearly tipping over the suitcase in the process. Yeah, she didn't really have a need to walk down this street anyway. But as she took a step to jog away, the suitcase pulled backwards.

Eyes frantic, she turned around to see the evil outline of Brujon's face looking down at her, bear claw gripping the top handle of the suitcase. "My, it's been a long time, my girl. Can't believe your back in our neck of the woods now."

Suddenly, she steeled her eyes, determined. "Let go," she demanded, tugging on the bar of the suitcase.

Brujon held the handle tighter and she tugged more forcefully. With a quick smirk, he let go of it and she stumbled backward, colliding into the arms of another man. His muscular arms enveloped hers and his breath came down, hot in her ears. She nearly jumped at the feeling of him, she had never even seen him approach.

"What a pretty little thing. Whose is she?" this man asked Brujon.

"Used to be 'Parnasse's girl. But the little bitch left him for another man. And now would you look, here she is, all alone at night, with nothing but a suitcase." He turned his yellowing eyes down to Éponine. "Why, you're not running away, are you? I thought you _loved_ that little pretty boy?"

She wrenched herself in the man's grasp with a firm, "Let go of me." But he stood resolute, hands clasping her to him as they slowly caressed her waist.

Brujon let out a hearty chuckle and the two grotesque men behind him similarly smirked at her. "'Ponine, let me do you the honers of introducing you to my new friends. Surely, you remember Claquesous," he announced with a nod to one man behind him on his left. "Then we got Gueulemer. And the one behind you is Beauchesne."

"And where's Babet?"

"We took care of him. Not to worry, sweetheart."

Her eyes widened in terror. "What do you - "

"So," the man, Beauchesne piped in from behind her, cutting her off completely. She craned her neck to try and get a look at his dark face, caked in shadows, but she couldn't make out a blasted thing. "If she was 'Parnasse's girl...then she knows a good trick or two, correct?"

Brujon shrugged, eyes darting to hers quickly. "Wouldn't know," he said with a menacing step toward her. "'Parnasse kept her on a leash. Was never allowed to touch her. But he's not here now..." Slowly, he reached a finger up stroking the side of her face. "So, why don't we find out?"

Her heart plummeted, thumping loudly in her chest and for the first time in the year that she'd been free, she wished Montparnasse was here. Even for all the things he did wrong, he never let his friends touch her in that way, and for that, she was always grateful. If he was here, he would make sure they never laid a finger on her, he would honestly protect her. But sadly, he was far away from her now, and no one was coming to rescue her.

Squirming about, she thrashed her body in his arms, tossing her head to the side and doing anything to break free of his grasp.

"I'll scream," she said breathless after a minute of realizing that his muscles were no match for her.

"Scream all you want, baby, no one will come for you," Beauchesne leered. His left arm was clamped around her midsection, securing her back to his, while his right hand roughly tried to comb her hair behind her ear as Brujon continued to stroke the side of her cheek. "But let's move this off the street, and then I'll definitely give you a reason to scream."

"I told you I'd do it..." she said, mustering up her breath. And with a deep breath, she let out a loud and blood-curdling scream that sliced right through the tender night air. When her breath ran out, she gathered another to scream but it was silenced this time by a slap to the cheek.

Only upon lifting her head, and bringing her eyes back to focus, she saw the silhouette of Brujon with his hand still raised. "Shut the hell up," he snarled. He stood right in front of her now, hands gripping both of her wrists.

"Get off of me!" she yelled. "Get away from me!" She was yelling anything thing at this point, anything to keep her noise level raised, anything to stall them, anything to cause a scene. "Don't you touch me! I said, get off of me!"

"Gueulemer," Brujon hollered over his shoulder. "Shut her mouth."

"No! NO! Stop it!" she continued. "Help!"

Struggling against them, she felt another set of hands grab her waist, fingers seeping down into the waistband of her jeans. Gueulemer closed in on her, chubby fingers shoving against her lips. She felt herself being shoved along in the mass of hands, farther down the sidewalk and closer to an alley. Her heartbeat was steadily increasing, her brow sweating, her breath labored.

"Brujon," a timid voice called from a place seeming far away.

His yellow eyes turned away from Éponine as he looked over his shoulder. "Go back inside, Monique."

"But what are you doing? We all heard a scream."

Through the mess of hands and faces in front of her, Éponine could vaguely make out a silhouette of skinny girl with thick curly hair the color of caramel. Her black lace dress was cut short, hugging her slender frame tightly. Even though the night corroded most of her features, the drawn look of her face made her seem as if she were in her thirties.

Brujon growled, letting go of Éponine with a shove and a quick: "Hold her," muttered to his friends. His voice seemed to disappear as he walked away but in the silent night air, Éponine could still make out what he was saying. "Ran into an old friend. This is just business I've got to take care of." He gripped onto her shoulders, shoving her along back towards the door of the bar. Her head kept craning to try and get a better look at Éponine, but Brujon kept blocking her view. "It doesn't concern you, get back inside."

She stepped around him and Éponine saw her face a bit more clearly. "But _what_ are you doing?" she asked again.

In an instant, a small cry escaped her lips as Brujon pulled her backwards by her hair. "I _said_, get back inside...or I'll slit out your tongue and feed it to the birds." He kept a fistful of her hair held high above as his eyes bored into hers. "Go ahead, try me again and let's see what happens."

This time there was silence on her part. With one last grunt, he let go of her and she scampered off inside. He gave a small chuckle at seeing her retreat. "And that boys, is how you take care of a girl." Cocking his head to the side and cracking it, he positioned his eyes on Éponine and sauntered back to her. He gave a nod to a small, cluttered, and cramped alleyway. "In there," he told his friends. "She's mine first."

Éponine gulped, eyes bulging. At once she remembered, Gueulemer's fingers were still clenched around her mouth and swiftly, she opened her teeth and bit down as hard as she could.

"Arrghh!" he yelled, retracting his hand in an instant.

But within the same instant, Éponine screamed wildly again. If her screams before were enough to attract one person, then surely if she screamed a second time, someone else would come. But her breath ran short again as a fist found her eye. Her vision fell black for a minute before the world produced shapes again and she saw her attackers around her still.

"I thought I told you to shut - "

"You fucking son of a bitch!"

Éponine wasn't sure what happened, but she felt Brujon's presence lifted from her and suddenly, there was another man in his place. His fist coiled back before it flung into Brujon's skull. She saw the curly blonde hair flying in a disheveled mess as he doubled over to cradle his throbbing hand, shouting a slew of obscenities into the air.

The piercing blue eyes darted to the other three men who still held tight onto Éponine, his look was enough to ripple their skin with goosebumps.

Éponine felt one hand grip her waist a little tighter, but she was too petrified to squirm. Suddenly, the blue eyes landed on her, causing a shiver to run over her spine. She had never seen them hold so much fire and intensity before, it was enough to stop her heart for just a moment.

He was next to her in a breath, latching onto her shirt and yanking her away from the other three bodies. "How many times have I told you not to wander around at night! How many times, Éponine!" he berated as he flung her forward with so much force, she collided to the ground on her hand and knees.

Brujon was behind Enjolras in a second, but instantly, he whipped around catching Brujon's fist and kneeing him in the groin. "Why can't you all leave her alone!" he shouted. "Why can't everyone leave her alone! She's done _nothing_!"

Brujon howled in pain, gripping his crotch and falling to the ground.

"This has nothing to do with you, pretty boy," Claquesous spoke up. "This is our business. She was the one who put 'Parnasse in jail. It's time she paid for what she's done. This is between us and her, not you."

Enjolras shoved Claquesous back into the adjacent wall, squeezing his throat with one hand. "I'm her fiancé. I'm keeping her safe, this had _everything_ to do with me."

"Fiancé?" Beauchesne scoffed. "She was running away from you! Looks to me like you're not doing too good a job at keeping her safe. She doesn't even want to be with you." Slowly, Beauchesne walked himself closer to Éponine, who still sat on the ground. She sat trying to catch her breath, trying to calm her heart, and trying to find a way out of this. He stood beside her, leaning down and grabbing her by the arm.

She opened her mouth to scream, but all that could come out were muffled pants. There was nothing in her chest except a tightness that constricted every noise she wanted to utter. Her mind was desolate, too scared to even form a coherent thought.

In a second, Enjolras steeled around at hearing her pants and seeing the other man leave his sight. He let go of Claquesous and collided his hands into Beauchesne. The thug stumbled backwards, falling off the curb and into the street between two parked cars.

Enjolras stood above him, hands lifting him back up halfway off the ground by the collar of his shirt. "Don't you touch her!" Enjolras admonished. "Don't you _ever_ lay a finger on her again. Don't even talk to her, don't even look at her! Just leave her the fuck alone! She is _mine_. Got it? I don't care where she goes, or what she does, but she is still mine. And _none_ of you have any right to touch her." He shoved the man back to the ground and took a step backward. "Now, get out of my sight!" he yelled at them. "All of you! Otherwise I can get the cops here in minutes."

Brujon unsteadily stood to his feet, eyeing around at the other men who warily began to stand beside him. He looked as if he were thinking over the situation. His gaze found Éponine's for a brief moment before they flickered back to Enjolras' and his only darkened.

"_Never_. Come. Near. Her. Again. Or next time, you won't leave here walking." He watched them intently, eyeing their movements like a hawk as Brujon nodded once to the bar and they began to retreat.

Only when the were all fully inside, Enjolras turned back to Éponine who still stay seated on the ground, hyperventilating into her knees. He squatted down in front of her with open hands. "Éponine," he whispered. "I'm not going to touch you. But can you tell me if you're hurt? Can you stand?"

Her hands gripped the side of her head in fistfuls, as she stared to the ground, each breath coming out sharp and pained - a wheeze then an exhale, over and over again.

Scooting himself an inch closer, he surveyed her motions carefully to see if she would flinch away from him, but this time, she didn't. Desperately, he wanted to wrap her in his arms and hug her, shushing her gently as he carried her home, but he wouldn't dare try to touch her now. "Éponine," he said again. "Just nod or shake your head. Are you hurt?"

All of a sudden, her blank eyes jerked up to meet his and they narrowed. Her trembling ceased the same moment and her hands gently let go of her hair. "You don't own me!" she shouted unexpectedly, jumping to her feet and dashing off into the night. Legs propelling herself down the block at the speed of light.

Enjolras was too slow to stop her as he called her name repeatedly. She never turned around, never answered him, leaving him standing there alone on the side of the street - now with nothing but her suitcase on the ground and her ring in his pocket.

He had everything except _her_.


	6. Part 6

**A/N: Sorry for this shorter one here. But I wanted to get this updated. Well, I lied. Now there will be one more chapter. I split this one in half. Hope none of you mind. And I promise, seven will be the end of this little mini-story. **

**Sorry if this isn't anything exiting…my confidence level in writing has slowly been deteriorating. I don't love anything I write anymore. I keep rewriting the same chapters and deleting them. To me, everything sucks. Honestly, I hate it. I hate everything, I hate how much I suck at writing, I hate how much my parents don't love each other anymore, I hate how everyone fights, I hate how unhappy we all are, and I'm just really really sorry. **

**If this is bad, please just tell me. What's one more person to tell me how much I suck anyway?**

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Coerced  
Part 6

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There will never be anywhere truly safe to hide. She was sure of that now. Everywhere she turned, there was someone else who wanted her, someone else who was ready to destroy her, violate her, objectify her...make her hate herself further.

Éponine didn't know where to go. What else was she supposed to do now? Dawn was approaching steadily, her feet were beginning to fail her, her mind was draining, her reason falling short. She had no clothes in her possession now, no money, no keys, no wallet - everything she had was left in the suitcase which she was in too much of a hurry to even grab. She was left with nothing.

Truthfully though, she didn't mind - she was used to having nothing.

Finally, her feet dragged her to a doorstep, one she had never visited before, one lacking familiarity, lacking warmth. Yet, she knew of the address, she knew the person inside, and she just hoped that this _friend_ would be able to help her.

It felt like an eternity before the door squeaked open and a droopy eyed blonde answered, clad in nothing but a bathrobe over her pajamas.

"Éponine? What are you doing here?" Lillian asked, eyes widening in confusion. "Oh my god," she said, finally taking note of her friend's swollen eye, the shadows pooling around it in the beginnings of a bruise.

"I'm sorry," Éponine began. "I don't mean to intrude...I just. I didn't know where else to go."

Lillian made a bit of a face and creaked the door open wider. "Do you want to come in?" She stumbled back a step and let Éponine walk into her tiny apartment. "My roommate is sleeping over her boyfriend's tonight. You're lucky it's just me here now, she doesn't really like guests."

Éponine's stomach dropped as she clutched her arms tightly around herself. She took in the scene of the little apartment. There was one couch in front of a small television that spread directly into a little kitchenette. She assumed the three doors on each wall led to bedrooms and a bathroom. Nervously, Éponine stayed stationed in the middle of the room, not knowing what to say, where to begin, or even what to do.

"Is everything okay?" Lillian asked. "You look a bit...strange."

"I ran into some trouble," Éponine said, casting her gaze down to the floor.

"What kind of trouble?" She was skeptical. Lillian walked by her, taking a spot against the island counter in the kitchenette.

"I left Enjolras."

Her eyes doubled. "You left him. Just like that?"

Éponine gave a grim nod.

"What about clothes? Didn't you pack something? Didn't you have a plan to go somewhere? How did you just leave without anything?"

"I...I had a suitcase with some things...but...I met some drunks...and - "

"Oh my god!" Lillian interrupted. "Did you get hurt? Are you okay? Should I call someone?"

Éponine only shook her head in response. "I'm fine. I just...I need someplace to rest right now. I've been walking all night."

"Don't you have friends?"

The question was so blunt it made the brunette dash her eyes up to Lillian before they turned wide in panic - sheer guilt building for suddenly barging into her house unannounced. "I do," she responded meekly. "But I...I mean, my sister lives far away and my other friend...well her boyfriend is good friends with Enjolras. I'm sorry, Lilly. I didn't know where to go."

"Do you want me to call someone for you? Maybe you can crash at your parent's place for the night? I'm sure they'd love to see you...right?"

Éponine shut her eyes tightly, holding back the tears. "No...my parents are...they're dead."

"Oh, well," Lillian said a bit forcefully. She sounded like she was about to say more but she shut her mouth and walked over to a cabinet.

Silence crept in like an awkward friend as Éponine just watched her movements, but didn't say anything. She needed to say something, but there were so many things running through her mind, she couldn't decide what to say first. It was obvious that Lillian did not want her here but where else was she to go at five in the morning, not having even slept a wink. She felt guilty for everything - for her boss's actions, for her attitude to Enjolras, for leaving him, for running into Brujon, and now for showing up at Lillian's house.

Éponine was nothing but trouble and she convinced herself of that fact the entire duration of her life. The past week only solidified that.

In the thick atmosphere of discomfort, Lillian had been busy pouring a glass of some kind of alcohol - Éponine couldn't read the label through the dimness of the room. Dauntlessly, the blonde walked over to her and handed her the glass. Immediately, Éponine got a nose-full of the foul stench of whiskey. The smell of it was like a slap in the face and her mind met a head on collision of Montparnasse and his whiskey breath.

"That's all I've got," Lillian explained. "Wish I had some wine or something..."

"Do you have a glass of water?"

Lillian shrugged tiredly. "Won't help you sleep. I'll get you some clothes and you can crash on the couch, alright?"

Éponine gave a weak smile. "Oh thank you...really - " but Lillian cut her off, waving a hand.

"It's alright," she said. "Don't worry about it."

"Just until tonight," Éponine responded quickly. "Once I can rest, I can figure out where to go. I promise."

"It's fine," she replied, turning away from Éponine in a hast and entering her bedroom.

Standing there frozen, still with a glass of whiskey in her hand, Éponine held her breath, waiting for Lillian's return - deciding if she should just make a break now and save herself from the gaucheness. But too soon, Lillian returned with a bundle of clothes.

"The bathroom is right there." She pointed to a door on the same wall as the kitchenette. "I'll be out here when you're done."

With a small thank you, Éponine gave a shy smile, and exchanged the clothes for her glass of whiskey. Promptly, she crossed into the bathroom and changed. Upon entering back in the living area, Éponine now had on large pajama shorts that fell off her waist as she walked and a bright fuchsia tank-top over her bra. Already, there were blankets covering the couch and a pillow on one end. Lillian was just sitting down on top of the comforter with her own glass of whiskey when Éponine came and sat beside her.

"I take it you won't be going into work at nine, right?" Lillian asked as she picked up Éponine's forgotten glass and handed it to her.

"I was kinda hoping to sleep."

Lillian nodded subtly, taking a sip of her whiskey. "Yeah," she groused, slapping her mouth together, savoring the taste of the liquid. "My roommate should be home at seven-eight tonight. It's her night to work late."

"I'll make sure I'm gone by then," Éponine said.

Lillian only shrugged. "She'll get over it if you're not, so don't worry about it. Sometimes she's just a bit..." her voice trailed off as her eyes gazed over at Éponine. "Hey um..." she tentatively began, "What happened to your knees?"

It was then Éponine noticed her browned knees, perfectly on display in these pajama shorts. "Oh," she said spritely, reaching down to gently stroke the bruise on her right knee. "I don't know. Sometimes I just get bruises and I don't know where they come from."

"That's a pretty nasty bruise though."

"But it's healing," Éponine replied nonchalantly. "It's nothing to worry about."

Lillian took the last gulp from her glass and swallowed. "And your eye...you said it was a bunch of drunks, right?"

Éponine averted her eyes, blushing under the scrutiny. "Yeah, I was passing a bar, they were all drunk and high. One of them grabbed me, I tried to run, he socked me and I made a break for it. Lost my suitcase, but after that...I came here."

"Oh," was all her friend could say. She waited another minute before speaking again. "So, how did Enjolras take it when you told him you were leaving?"

Éponine didn't answer right away. Instead, she let the air stifle between them. "I didn't tell him. I just left the ring on the counter before he came home from work and left. I didn't really want to face him. I-I didn't have the courage to."

"Because he would've gotten mad?"

The brunette paused. "I don't know if he would've gotten _mad_. Maybe just an argument...but he can be very..._persuasive_. He probably would've talked me into staying."

"You're better off without him anyway. I mean...what he did to Pierson and all. I guess I mean..._I'm_ scared of him, I can only imagine what it's like to _live_ with him."

"No, he's not bad," Éponine insisted. She waited for Lillian to say something, but she said nothing. "He's fine," she said, filing in the silence.

Lillian was quiet again as her eyes landed on Éponine's arms, holding a million scars along the insides of them. She couldn't take her eyes away from it no matter how hard she wanted to. Éponine saw her staring and gently shifted her arms over so Lillian would have nothing to look at.

Reading her body language, Lillian looked ahead at the black television. "But Ép, you did the right thing in leaving him, trust me."

Éponine didn't agree, but truthfully, she was only glad Lillian didn't mention anything about the scars. "Did I, Lilly? I don't know..."

"You made the right decision, okay? Don't doubt that." Lillian stood from her seat and looked down to Éponine. "Just get some rest. I'll be quiet getting ready, and I'll let everyone know you won't make it in today."

Éponine gave a nod, placing her mostly full glass of whiskey on the coffee table. "Thank you...for everything."

"Yeah...yeah. Just, you gotta take care of yourself, you know that? This is for the better."

"Thanks." Just that one little word uttered from her lips and Éponine began to snuggle herself under the blankets, cocooning herself in warmth, letting Lillian's words sink in and letting sleep come for her.

...

She was awoken by the sound of knocking - but it was more like banging rather than knocking. She had no idea where she was at first, but as she groggily lifted her head from the pillow, the aches increased throughout her body.

She felt sore from head to toe, her muscles stiff, the bruises pestering; her head pounding and this incessant banging doing nothing to soothe her.

"Any louder and they'll wake her," Lillian muttered as she walked out of a room and closer to the front door, now dressed in a smart pencil skirt and blouse.

"Lillian Durand?" a commanding voice spoke once the door was opened. Éponine could hear them perfectly, but she didn't lift her head to see.

"Hi, yes," Lillian timidly replied.

"You were the one who called, correct?"

"Yes, I...I did. She's in here. She's sleeping - "

"Lilly?" Éponine called wearily, trying to sit herself up from her spot on the couch.

"Hey," Lillian said, coming into her view. "Éponine, there is someone here to see you, okay? They just want to ask a few questions."

"Enj...Enjolras?" she idly wondered.

Lillian let out a little laugh. "Don't worry, honey. It's not Enjolras."

As soon as Lillian stepped to the side, Éponine's eyes nearly doubled as she took in two male officers before her. Her heart began to race thinking of every reason they would be here for her? What could she have done this time? Why was she in trouble? She gulped. "Does this have to do with Brujon?" she asked one of them.

The skinnier officer shook his head, staring down at her. "Brujon? Not that we know of. Forgive us for intruding. My name is Officer Mabeuf and this is my partner Champmathieu. You're Éponine Moreaux, correct?"

She looked down at the blanket pooling in her lap. "I go by Thénardier now."

"Apologies then," Mabeuf continued. "Lillian called us with a lead and we would like to follow through. Would you mind answering a few questions? I understand if now is not the best time."

Éponine tucked the blanket tighter around her, eyes wide as the nervousness began to set in. "You called them?" she asked her friend.

Lillian came over and sat beside her on the couch. "Yes," she said, leaning closer to Éponine and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I'm going to make sure he doesn't hurt you anymore."

Éponine's heart fell like an anvil. Is this really what her friend believed? Her mind fell blank, her eyes stared off into space, the fear far-reaching as she desperately wanted to shout at them.

Yet no words came out.

"Éponine," Mabeuf said, calling her to attention. "Where did you get the bruise on your eye?"

Her lip was trembling. "Some drunks during the night. Before I came to Lilly's. I ran into them and one punched me in the eye. That was it."

"That's what she told me this morning," Lillian announced. "But I didn't believe it."

Éponine looked appalled, shrugging off Lillian's arm from her shoulders dramatically. "Well it's the truth, believe it or not."

"Sometimes, Éponine," Champmathieu cut in. "Sometimes...the truth can be scary. But I promise you, if you tell us the truth, we won't let him harm you for it."

"But that's what happened," she insisted. "I swear. His name was Brujon. He was with three others - "

"Her knees too," Lillian announced.

Mabeuf sighed. "Miss Durand, I understand your concern. But please let us do our job. We'll get to it."

"My knees are fine," Éponine said, pulling the blanket taught around her legs.

"May we see you knees, please?" Mabeuf asked kindly.

Éponine shook her head. "You don't need to, they're fine."

"Show them your knees, Éponine," Lillian said.

"No!" Éponine retorted. "No one needs to see them - "

"They're just trying to help."

"No! I don't need help from anyone. I can take care of myself. _I_ am my own person. I can figure it out on _my_ own!"

"Please, Éponine," Mabeuf tried again. "Please just show us."

Lillian grabbed onto the blanket and this time, Éponine didn't refuse. She let Lillian pull the blanket away, exposing her bruised knees to the cops. Mabeuf inhaled sharply and Champmathieu only stayed stoic in response.

"He didn't do it," Éponine started, panic rising from deep within her. "He didn't touch me."

Swiftly and suddenly, Mabeuf stood and Champmathieu followed in suit. "We'd like you to come down the to station with us," Mabeuf announced. "We can take care of you better there."

"No, no," Éponine protested, voice wavering. "I don't need to go with you. Everything is fine, you have to believe me."

"I'll get you some clothes to borrow," Lillian said, rising to her feet and leaving the room.

Awkwardly, Éponine was left alone with the two men wondering what was going to happen now. She didn't know if she should try convincing them once again that Enjolras was not like that or if she should just go with them. What would cause her less trouble in the end? What was the right choice to make?

Lillian gave Éponine a new set of clothes and let her change in the bathroom and somehow, Éponine soon found herself riding in the back of a police car on the way to the station. Perhaps it wasn't coercion, but based on everything else she had been through this week, it felt like it was.

The three arrived at the police station, all except Lillian, and Éponine gingerly followed behind, shrugging up her Lillian's jeans that kept slipping down. Mabeuf set Éponine up at his desk, instructing her to wait in one of the chairs, saying that he would be with her momentarily.

He walked back through the police station, arriving behind the front desk. "Hey, Nadine," he said to the women sitting at the desk, "Anything new today?"

"Nothing much," she said with a shrug, already jumping from her seat and opening the filing cabinet, knowing that was what Mabeuf was waiting for. She glanced around the station as she handed Mabeuf a stack of papers. "What's Mrs. Moreaux doing here?" she asked, locking her vision on the brunette sitting across the way.

Mabeuf looked back over to Éponine before looking down at the forms once again. "You know her?"

"Well sure," she said, plopping her large self back in her seat. "She's got a whole file here. Think it was only a year ago. She was having some trouble, we drew up a case for her, it went to the courts and everything."

The officer stilled, looking up to meet her eyes with a skeptical look. "What kind of trouble?"

"Domestic violence."

He gulped and shakily, he began writing on the form. "Poor girl," he muttered. "She can't catch a break."

"Why?" Nadine asked, curiosity now peaked. "What makes you say that?"

He shook his head in sympathy. "Take a look at her face. That'll tell ya."

It was Nadine's turn to freeze as she warily met Mabeuf's eyes. "Again?" she whispered, almost afraid of the answer.

Mabeuf only nodded. "Afraid so."

"'Poor girl' is right," she mumbled, casting her eyes back over to stare at Éponine. Even she couldn't help the pity that grew inside her for the woman. "What a shame..."

After filing out most of the paperwork, Mabeuf waltzed himself back over to Éponine and sat before her, behind his own desk. He pulled out the papers again, glancing them over before finally looking up to a timid Éponine. "Would you like anything to drink?" he asked hesitantly. "Can I get you something?"

Éponine wrung her hands nervously on her lap and her leg bounced slightly. "I'm fine," she responded abruptly.

He nodded charily. "For the reports, I need to ask you some more questions - "

"I want Enjolras," she suddenly said. Mabeuf gaped at her, eyes doubling. She took quick note of this reaction and clarified, "Can I call him? Or can you call him. I want to see him. I want him here."

"Éponine...I wouldn't advise that right away - "

"No," she said indignantly. "Please. This is what you can get me. I want my fiancé."

He sighed, clasping his hands together prayer-style and pressing them to his lips. "I really don't think - "

"I won't answer your questions until he is here. Please," she paused, her eyes turning dark as she silently challenged the police officer. "I want Enjolras."

With a reluctant sigh, Mabeuf picked up the phone on his desk. "What's his number?"

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**A/N: Oh, God, and I'm sorry for this little mini-rant before. Okay, let me just put on a smile now and thank you all. Thank you all for being here when I feel like no one else is. I love you guys. :) I'll get the next chapter up soon. I just want to rewrite it first.**


	7. Part 7

**A/N: Hey all, thank you so much for sticking with this story and now I have brought it to a nice and simple conclusion. Yes, there are many unanswered questions here and many new questions that arise, but I promise this is only part of a very intricate and in-depth story. OHHH is far from over…believe me. **

**Now, I would also just like to thank you all for being there for me once again. I'm sorry if I come across too whiney, and I promise to stop that. I'm gonna be strong - as I know so many of you all are. **

**You guys are the best people in the world. Hands down! So now enjoy the last part of this story. **

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Coerced  
Part 7

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After hanging up the phone, Mabeuf turned back to Éponine with regret etched into his sagging skin. "He's on his way," he said with a defeated breath.

She sucked in a breath, but didn't respond, the only sound she made was an exhale.

Mabeuf rose to his feet, motioning for Éponine to follow him. "I think it would be wise to wait for him elsewhere," he explained as he began leading the way across the station.

Wary of where he was going, Éponine continued on nonetheless until he led the way down a back hallway and stopped in front of a door. He opened it, letting her walk into a steel room where the only furnishings were a table and two chairs facing one another.

"You can take a seat," he told her as another officer found the way into the room behind her. "Éponine," he said, giving a nod to the female officer who just entered. "This here is Officer Marten, she is just going to sit in with us while we talk."

Officer Marten stood by the table as Éponine took a hesitant seat. "Hello Éponine," she said in a gruff voice, not at all matching her petite and slender frame, weighted down by a hefty uniform and giving her body a disproportioned look.

Once Éponine sat down, Mabeuf took the only other seat opposite her. He meticulously laid out all of his papers in front of him, and pulled his reading glasses from his inside his shirt. After adjusting them, he eyed down to all the papers and began silently reading through them, dragging out the time and the anxiety that was slowly ebbing though Éponine's mind.

She fidgeted with her hands, flicking her fingers over and over as if she were the one in trouble. "He's not a bad man," she whispered.

Suddenly, Mabeuf looked up to her. "I'm sure you believe that," he spoke with a small smile. "I'm sure he's not always bad."

"I promise you he isn't. He didn't hit me."

He took a deep breath and closed the manilla folder. "Then let's start somewhere else." He waved Marten closer and mouthed something to her that Éponine didn't catch, but then he turned his friendly face back to Éponine. "We're going to take some pictures of your bruises for record. Would that be okay?" Timidly, she nodded her response and Marten took a camera out of her breast pocket. While she set to work on snapping a few pictures of Éponine's face, Mabeuf continued. "What's he like everyday?"

"He's wonderful. He's kind," Éponine said without pausing for a breath.

He pursed his lips together. "Have you ever felt scared of him?"

She opened her mouth and then hesitated, emitting a small squeak. "…No."

Grimacing, Mabeuf opened the folder once again, thumbing through some papers as Marten continued to take pictures of Éponine's knees. "You were here last year, it says. For a domestic violence dispute." He finally glanced his eyes up to meet hers as Marten finished with her pictures, putting the camera away and allowing Éponine to face Mabeuf again. As soon as he met Éponine's eyes, already he could see her pupils become glassy. His heart clenched at the sight.

"I want you to understand," he began slowly, letting her hear the sincerity in his words. "Multiple victimization is common, but it is nothing to be ashamed of. Someone once explained that it's as if the victims wear a sign, letting other abusers target them. Psychologists have analyzed it through body language." He waved his hands around as he spoke, occasionally throwing a glance to Marten, making sure she nodded along to what he was saying. "Most men can read the guarded signs a victim gives, and they back off. As for the victim, they assume something is wrong with them, they become depressed. But the abuser type, he ignores those signs and pursues a victim anyway. So the victim falls victim once again. All they can see is someone finally showing interest in them and they fall for that."

Éponine gulped audibly, a slight tremble coursing through her body.

"I'm sorry if I'm upsetting you, but does this make any sense at all?"

She nodded shyly, casting her eyes to the table. "It's..." she trailed off in a mumble, not even finding the words to form a complete sentence. She ended up nodding again, still staring down at the table. Her hands clasped together and she reached for her ring finger only to be surprised by the absence of a ring to twirl. It was alarming for a second but the panic wore off as the dull ache crept back into her heart.

"I know it's a lot to take in," Marten's voice jumped in suddenly. "But we'll take care of you - "

A small knock on the door alerted the trio's attention. Marten calmly exhaled, not finishing her sentence as she walked and opened the door.

"Excuse me," another male officer spoke at the door. "He's here, should I send him in?"

Before Marten or Mabeuf could open their mouths, Éponine spoke: "Enjolras? _Please_. I want to talk to him."

Mabeuf stayed silent for a moment and the officer waited for his answer. Reluctantly, Mabeuf heaved a sigh accompanied with a nod. "You can send him in."

The door shut once more and Mabeuf looked back to Éponine. "You can talk with him only if we stay in the room with you. Fair enough?"

Once Éponine nodded, the single door slid open again and instantly she was met with those beautiful crystal blue eyes and unruly curls. Despite their dulled state and the bags forming underneath them, his eyes still shone once he saw her - a cerulean hue overtaking them, the light returning to his face.

But the second his eyes met hers and he saw the nasty bruise circling her own eyes, all thought left his body and his sole objective was her. He needed to hold her, needed to feel her, embrace her and keep her safe. Enjolras bounded to her with outstretched arms, reaching for her, wanting her, and at that moment, her eyes widened in terror.

Instantaneously, she clambered from her seat, jumping away from him and closer to the opposite end of the room. Her arms hugged around herself watching in horror as Mabeuf and Marten swiftly grabbed hold of Enjolras, securing his arms behind his back.

"What do you think you're doing?" Marten yelled, gripping his biceps tighter and giving him a small shake.

Enjolras had to admit, for a woman, she had an incredibly strong hold. "That's my fiancée," he croaked. "Éponine...please."

But she looked elsewhere, dropping her eyes to the floor, and turning her body away from him just slightly. "I'm sorry," she whispered, but it wasn't like anyone heard her.

With loud shuffling and a bit of banging, Mabeuf slammed Enjolras into the chair at the table. "One wrong move, and I'll cuff you, you understand?"

"I just want to talk with her," Enjolras said. "I just wanted to make sure she was alright."

He knew why he was here, he could surmise it based on everything the police said to him before he drove down to the station. He knew they thought he abused her. He knew they were ready to take him into custody. Proof was the only thing the police were missing. They only needed one small piece of evidence and he would be spending the night in jail while a case was drawn. And the way Éponine leapt away from him just now - as if he were the devil, or worse, Montparnasse - that was all the proof they needed.

God, he was mad at her. He was furious that she would do such a thing, something that could incriminate him and ruin his perfect record. In actuality, he had only been trying to protect her, he had never even harmed her - not once in all the time they had known each other. All he's done, all he does, he does for her. It burned his heart. He loved her and in only a few moments, she would be gone from him forever. He wanted to yell, scream at them, make them all see the truth, but he held it in.

_Don't get mad, _he reminded himself. _Whatever you do, do not get mad. Show them you care about her, show them how much you really love her._

So, it was settled. That's what he would do.

Mabeuf ignored Enjolras' comments, taking a careful step over to Éponine as she still stood against the wall, eyes to the ground, arms hugging herself. As he approached her from behind, he could hear her labored breathing and see the slight tremble of her frame. "Éponine," he spoke softly, reaching out his arm to her. The second his hand touched her upper arm she jerked away with a loud hiss and jumped closer to the corner of the room. Mabeuf stepped away from her that instant, hands raised, palms toward her.

"Éponine..." he said again, but trailed off hearing her breathing turn into a quiet hyperventilation.

"You can't touch her," Enjolras called to him, internally cheering at her reaction. Perhaps this would show that it wasn't just him, this was her reaction to touches. Perhaps they would realize he only wanted to help her, save her from herself, but then again, perhaps this would only show that he was the one who made her like this.

Mabeuf whipped his head to Enjolras, at a loss for words, at a loss for any explanation in this situation. He looked almost confused, worried, like he was silently begging Enjolras for what to do next.

The room fell silent and the only sound that could be heard was Éponine. Her eyes were screwed shut, her breathing loud and irregular.

Mabeuf exchanged a look with Marten and that second, she made up her mind and walked to the officer still standing in the door way. "Could you get a behavioralist in here?" she asked him. And with a small nod, the officer disappeared, shutting the door behind. Enjolras opened his mouth to protest, staring right at Marten. But last second, he decided better of it, knowing it would only raise suspicions. She looked back at his agape face. "What're you looking at?" she sneered.

Suddenly, he turned his eyes back to Éponine.

"I'm sorry," Éponine whispered in between pants of breath. She shook her head as her one hand let go of her arm. Repetitively, she tucked her hair behind her ear again and again as she muttered, "I'm sorry...I'm sorry...sorry...so sorry..."

"Éponine," Enjolras said sternly. The way he said it made her motions cease. "Éponine, don't go there. You're better than this. Don't go there."

Mabeuf and Marten stood still, exchanging glances between each other, Enjolras, and Éponine.

In reply to their confused expressions, Enjolras gave a nod to them and continued, talking to his fiancée as if they were alone. "Why don't you come sit down? No one is going to touch you. You can come sit down and we can talk."

There was silence on her part, yet her body shifted its weight onto her other foot. It was another long moment that passed and then slowly, she opened her eyes but kept her gaze fixed to the ground.

"That's good, Éponine. Do you want to come sit?" He motioned to the chair opposite of him, hoping she might see out of her peripheral vision.

"..."

"Do you want to go home?"

Suddenly, her eyes lifted from the ground for a mere second and flashed to Enjolras before she looked down once again. But this time, just subtly, she shrugged.

"We can go home," Enjolras prompted, his voice smooth like silk, a sweet melody, a lullaby. "But you have to come sit first. We should talk. And then, once we talk, we can go home, we'll have dinner - I bet you're starving - and then we can watch T.V. and go to bed. Everything will be fine."

She shifted on her feet again and tightened her hold on her arms. "I'm sorry," she uttered, her voice no more than a breath.

"You don't have to be sorry. No one is mad at you. Come," he said, tapping the other side of the table. "Come sit down, please. Nothing is going to happen. You wanted to talk with me too, didn't you?"

She gave a slow nod, gradually taking a step closer to the table.

"That's good. Thank you."

Again she stepped forward, taking small steps until she sat down across from Enjolras now with her hands in her lap and her eyes looking down. Her breathing has regulated for the most part, but her heart was still fluttering.

"Thank you," he repeated. "You can look up. Nothing's going to happen, I promise. Everything will be fine."

After another moment of hesitation, Éponine brought her eyes up to Enjolras and with a look of hurt, she whispered, "Fine? How can everything be fine?"

He almost wished she stayed silent. As soon as the words left her mouth, Mabeuf and Marten took steps closer to him, so close that he could feel their presence on top of him, suffocating him from behind. But their motions, the two officers were insinuating exactly what she was implying, exactly how it sounded, and what it all seemed like.

"Everything will be fine," Enjolras said again, his voice wavering under their cold and judgmental stares.

"How?" she pleaded, finally beginning her return from her state of darkness. "Nothing will be fine. How can you just _pretend_ none of this happened?"

"I'm not pretending that none of this happened." Enjolras leaned forward, anger descending upon him like a wave once again, but with gritted teeth, he forced it back. "Éponine, I've been taking care of it, I _have_ taken care of it. It's over, we can go home."

"But you didn't need to. I never wanted _you_ to take care of it, Enjolras."

"I've been trying to help you, I was protecting you." His words came out harsh even if they weren't intended to be. "What else should I've done? Let that bastard get away with what he did to you?"

Mabeuf stepped between them on the side of the table. "What exactly - "

"Call the police!" Éponine nearly yelled. "Did you ever think that maybe I wanted you to call the police and arrest him? That I wanted _them_ to take care of it, not you."

Enjolras stilled, confusion overtaking his fury. "That never...I didn't..."

"He's still out there now, Enjolras. What if he comes after me? What if he won't leave me alone...like...l-like Montparnasse?"

Enjolras pressed both of his hands to the table, desperately wishing he could clasp her hands between his own. "I would never let him harm you again. I would never let _that_ happen to you again. I'm trying to protect you, Éponine...but God," he sighed. "It's just so damn hard."

"No one said you had to protect me. I don't need you to." She sucked in a breath, letting the hurt sink into the bottom of her heart. "If it's too hard, then you can leave me. No one is making you stay."

"No, Éponine. I _want_ to protect you. I _want_ to be there for you. I _want_ to stay." He sighed when her eyes wandered to her lap again. "Look at me." On command, she did so, so that he was staring straight into her wide hazel eyes. "I love you." For a moment, she didn't respond, but he turned his voice soft; something dancing on the edge of a gentle whisper: "Let me protect you."

Éponine sat motionless, adverting her gaze to the side, away from his piercing blue orbs. She didn't know what she should do, she didn't even know how to respond.

But without even a reply from her, Enjolras reached deep into his pocket, under the watchful eye of the officers, and he pulled a fisted hand from his pocket and placed it on the table. He opened up his fist slightly and a little clank hit the table. When he removed his hand, Éponine was staring face to face with her engagement ring.

"I want to protect you. I don't ever want to lose you," he said carefully. "Let me be there for you."

She couldn't take her eyes off the shining little diamond glaring back at her fervently. This little promise glittering with hope, flickering a new life that was just in her reach. Did she want it? Was she ready to give herself to him? Would she be willing to sacrifice herself on the one hope that he would never hurt her? Could she really believe him after everything they've been through this week alone? Were his words just pretty lies?

She wanted to believe him. She wanted to love him. Delicately, she picked the ring off the table, twirling it about in her hands, inspecting it, cherishing it, fearing it. But that instant, she realized her wants were everything that her heart was made of. So she succumbed to that desperate ache inside her, the one that always seemed to lead her to treachery.

She slipped the ring on her left middle finger and nodded with a meek: "Okay."

But Enjolras shook his head and reached his hands to hers. He took a deep breath and very tenderly touched her left hand. When she flinched, he expected her to pull away from his grasp, retract back into her world of solitude and shut him out completely, but no, this time, she relaxed and kept her shaking hand within his.

Enjolras held her hand a little tighter and very smoothly, he slipped the ring from her finger and turned her palm up. "No," he breathed. "I want you to think about it. I want you to take your time, _really_ think about it."

He placed the ring in the center of her hand and closed her fingers around it, still not removing his own hand from hers. Looking her straight in the eye, he clutched her hand a bit tighter, making sure his eyes bored into her, staring right into the depths of her soul and right into the cracks of her heart.

"I want you to really know what it is that I'm asking you, what I want to give you for the rest of your life. I want to protect you, I want to hold you, and I want you to know that I would never lay a finger on you or touch a hair on your head unless you told me otherwise. Éponine, I know that you aren't mine, and I know that it was foolish of me to call you mine. It was stupid of me to let you see me get angry, even more stupid for me to hurt your boss. And I'm so sorry." With a small shake of his head he said again, "You aren't mine. You are too strong of a woman to ever belong to another man. But I still want to be yours one day, but only if you'll let me."

Éponine wanted to rip her eyes away, his stare was causing her throat to swell as the tears pricked her eyes. Yet he continued speaking undaunted, wanting to get everything off his chest before his own throat constricted and his own eyes began to water.

"You don't have to stay with me. We can arrange a place for you at Azelma's or Musichetta's. I want to give you the space to make this decision..._on_ your own and _in_ your own time. But even if you don't choose me, I will respect it because I know you're not mine, and it would be wrong for me to not let you go. And I want you to know that whatever you decide...whether you decide to take this promise, or whether you decide to move on...I want you to know..." He swallowed a building lump in his throat. "...that I will never stop loving you. I've loved you since the first day I saw you sitting alone in the bar, watching the hockey game all by yourself. I've loved you since we first sang _Oliver!_ together, since you first showed up at my doorstep, since the first time we went to a hockey game together, and since the first time we made love. Éponine, I have never stopped loving you and I _will_ never stop loving you. But no matter what, I will respect whatever decision you choose and I won't try to change your mind."

He finished his monologue by bending his head down to her closed palm and placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

"But think about it. _Please_." With those final words, he released her hand and closed his eyes in contemplation.

Éponine blinked away the tears, bringing her hands to her lap and clutching the ring tightly in her hands. "I promise," she whispered. When she met his eyes once more, she gave a forced smile. "Can we go home? I'd like to go home now."

Enjolras looked back to Mabeuf and Marten who both stood like statues, their stone faces doing their best to hide their emotions, but Enjolras could still see the hurt, the sympathy, the confusion flashing through their eyes. "I don't know," he murmured.

Mabeuf finally gave a solemn nod. "In a bit," he concluded. "First I still have some questions for you both. I'd really like to know more about what happened - "

"Go ahead, tell him, Éponine," Enjolras said. "Tell him everything. I'm not hiding anything."

With a deep breath and once Mabeuf's eyes locked with hers, Éponine told him. She told him everything in her wavering voice, in her tear-soaked words; she told him about Pierson, about what he did to her and what Enjolras did to him. She told him how scared she was but she told him how Enjolras never touched her.

Through it all, she told the truth, something that had grown so distant from her in the past few years, something she was always scared of.

It was another hour before the four were leaving the small back room and Mabeuf was finishing up the last of the paperwork at his desk. Enjolras stood beside Éponine, a safe but comfortable distance from her.

"I'll give Joly a call, I can drop you off there and then I'll drop off some clothes for you, alright?" Enjolras explained as they finished up the last of their conversation with Officer Mabeuf.

"Actually," Éponine said, hesitating on what she wanted to say next. "May...can I come home with you? W-would that be alright instead? I'd kind of like to sleep at home tonight."

He stared back at her, trying hard to hide the surprise in his voice. "Yeah...yeah...whatever you're comfortable with."

"Enjolras," Mabeuf said, gaining back the blonde's attention. "I'll get an officer to escort you both back home. But for the next few days, I would like to keep an officer stationed outside your apartment...especially if she decides to come home with you. You understand, correct? It's just procedure, just to make sure."

Grimly, Enjolras nodded. "I understand, sir."

"We'll be keeping a close eye on you both," Mabeuf added. "I still don't feel 100% about all of this, but she seems to trust you."

At those words, Éponine stepped closer to Enjolras, silently touching the sleeve of his shirt, her fingers lightly brushing his arm through the material. He nearly doubled over at her gesture, gaping down at her hands in utter disbelief.

Mabeuf cleared his throat before speaking. "You'll call her doctor? As you said, correct? You'll inform him of what's happened?"

"Of course," Enjolras responded.

"Very well then. Éponine," Mabeuf said, adjusting his eyes down to her. "Please take care and please stay safe."

...

Later on, a little while after they both arrived home, Éponine began to snuggle herself into the bed, facing away from the middle of the bed. Enjolras fluffed his pillow before gathering it from the bed, about to make his way into the living room.

"Enj," Éponine called, stopping him in his tracks. "You can sleep here, it's alright. I...I don't want to chase you from your bed." Her voice was so small, similar to that of a child's, sounding like she was in trouble, sounding like at any moment, her words would turn into tears.

"Our bed," he corrected, smiling to himself as he slowly placed the pillow back onto the bed. "Are you sure?" he asked, brows furrowing as he gazed at the back of her head.

"Yes."

With a small nod, he walked to the door of the room and shut out the light before coming back to the bed and crawling in, careful not to accidentally touch her. It took a few shifts of his body until he finally relaxed in a position that was suitable for him. It just so happened that he ended up finding a comfortable spot facing the back of her head.

"Goodnight, Éponine," he whispered.

But she didn't respond.

He thought better of it, thinking she was too tired to reply, so he closed his eyes and waited for sleep to find him. Yet it was only a matter of minutes before he heard her small snivels, no longer able to be stifled, her heavy breathing, the quiet sobs.

"Éponine?" he called out in a hushed tone.

"I'm sorry," she cried, instantly flipping herself over so that she was face to face with him in the darkness. "I'm so sorry...so sorry." She reached for him instantaneously, pushing herself into his chest, burying her hands between their bodies. "I'm so sorry...I never meant to hurt you so much. I never meant for any of this. I didn't mean to...I'm so sorry."

"Hey, hey, what have I told you? You don't have to apologize to me." He enveloped her trembling body, hugging her lightly while pressing her frame against his. Her body tensed in his hold, the only movements just her trembles. Immediately, he relaxed his muscles on her, waiting for her to pull away.

Once his hold loosened, she let out a rushed breath of air. "But I'm just so sorry. I'm sorry for Pierson, I'm sorry for being scared of you, I'm sorry for leaving, I'm sorry for Lilly calling the police. I'm sorry, I'm just so sorry."

"No, you don't have to be sorry for any of that."

"Stop it!" she nearly screamed, pushing away from his chest.

He had been waiting for it.

"Stop that, stop being so kind to me. I don't deserve it." The heat ran up her spine, tingling throughout her limbs as she prepared herself for her next words, fearing them before they even came from her tongue. "I deserve to be beat for what I did to you."

He grabbed onto her wrist and pulled her against him even as she resisted. "Don't ever say things like that."

Her breathing began to hyperventilate as she struggled in his grasp, trying to gain her freedom from his hand latched onto her wrist. He let go, feeling the panic radiating off of her. She closed up into a ball on herself. "But it's all my fault...and I'm just so sorry."

"I know you're sorry, and that's enough for me."

"But not for me. I need to learn. I'm sorry, I'm sorry...sorry..."

She shook her head wildly, so he reached for her again. To his surprise, she didn't retract and so he pushed her head into his chest to calm her movements, fastening his arms around her. "Don't go there, Éponine. Come back to me. That's over, remember?" He kissed the top of her head as another sob racked through her. "Don't go there."

It took a few moments but with his tender shushing and soft kisses, Enjolras brought her out of her darkness and into the light of his arms, still holding her even long after her sobs died away.

"I don't understand," she mumbled in the stillness that befell the room after sometime. "After everything I've done to you? I'm so broken...why do you still stay with me?"

He brushed her long bangs back from her forehead, a little smile playing on his lips even though she couldn't see it in the blackness. Gently, he pressed his lips to her now exposed skin.

"Because..._I love you_."

* * *

**A/N: I hope you don't think this was too rushed at the end. I was beginning to think it was. But _PLEASE_! I'm dying to know your thoughts. And I hope you all have enjoyed this very much! Look forward to chatting with you all again soon. **

**Love you!**


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